Winds of Change
by Demon-Something
Summary: As Usea finds itself in more chaos, five pilots struggle to rebuild their lives, find glory, or simply survive...
1. Chapter 1

**I own nothing involved with this story, all elements are accredited to Bandai Namco and Teletoon. **

_It has been said that the Usean Continental War of 2003 through 2005 was a turning point for Usea, and eventually, the world. However, the war is paltry compared to its root; Ulysses. The asteroid's impact had immediate casualties of approximately 500000, with an additional 100000 dying of disease and starvation in the year that followed. Though by summer 2002 the majority of all refugees were either back in their homes, in government provided housing, or having migrated from the Usean continent, the societal effects of The Panics and the impact took it's toll on daily life and government, particularly in Erusea…_

-excerpt from an eighth grade _Usea and You_ textbook, published August 9th, 2023, Neucom Print Media.

9/27/02

The bus moved through the streets of Los Canas carrying the latest batch of recruits coming from the hastily set up recruitment and physical training center near the Capitol, and a few others had met up from wherever else they might have been. But regardless of where they came from, they had the same destination. The crowded city center slowly gave way to the modest apartments and low rise office buildings as the city gave way to the suburbs. The bus itself was aging, over 30 years old, with "Los Canas Rapid Transit Authority" still on the side in faded orange letters. It was clear this bus hadn't been maintained since Ulysses. That irked the scowling man sitting in the front; it seemed like barely anything was maintained anymore. _I hate it when we have justification to pine for the old days, _he thought. The bus pulled onto an avenue, and through the trees, clinging onto their last fall leaves, the man could see the city's old airport, now a training base for the boisterous recruits behind him.

Meanwhile, the pilots chatted amongst each other, unlike the stoic airmen the commercials displayed with triumphant fanfare.

"So," one hopeful pilot with a wide brimmed hat said, turning to a brown haired girl next to him, "What's your name? Where ya' from?"

The other pilot was distracted for a second by the view out of the window, then turned to the recruit in the hat.

"Oh, sorry. I'm Courtney Marris, I'm from Newfield Island," she said perkily, although saying Newfield Island appeared to be somewhat painful for her.

"Newfield?" the recruit with the hat restrained himself from saying a 'Yikes' or to show some other form of pity. "Well, I'm Geoff McCall. I'm from an island too, but I'm from the Comonas."

"Really," Courtney responded, "is it always as nice as those movies and stuff say it is?"

"Actually, yes."

"I didn't expect that at all actually, you'd figure that movies would lie about everything these days."

"I guess that's an exception then," Geoff concluded. Another recruit joined in, another girl with fiery hair.

"He's totally right. I've reenacted a whole lot of movie stuff!" she said so fast it barely could be understood with a somewhat manic grin, "But it didn't really go well…"

"And you are?" Courtney asked, somewhat irritated at the interruption of the conversation.

"Izzy," the girl said, shaking Courtney's hand.

"I'm Courtney and that's Geoff."

"Oh, I already knew that," Izzy said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Courtney raised her eyebrow, but before she could say anything, the bus stopped in a motor pool alongside a row of other buses.

"Okay nuggets," a dark skinned man in the front yelled, using the term for new pilots, "Get moving, we have a lot to do! My name is Captain Will Wilson, call-sign, Hatchet. I'm your flight instructor, and by the time I'm done, you WILL be a formidable force.

The recruits then burst into an automatic "Yes sir!"

"Eh, good I guess. Follow me."

All of the pilot hopefuls grabbed their bags and formed a quiet line; they'd seen enough war movies to know that this guy was the de facto drill sergeant, and should be listened to. They were led out of the bus, through the former passenger drop off, and into the terminal. They passed abandoned check-in counters, restaurants now serving as makeshift mess halls, and the ubiquitous black faux-leather seats, now in a tight row waiting for some other use for them. Security lay dismantled, and the pilots passed through with more ease than they were used to. They passed gates, now housing transport planes and their AWACS. Finally, at the terminal's last gate, the door lay open. The man led the pilots down the staircase and onto the tarmac. About a half-mile away, a hangar stood, its white paint peeling off the corrugated steel walls, with the occasional patch of rust. Hatchet beckoned the pilots towards the hangar, and they began to walk. After ten minutes it was reached. The doors stood open, and the pilots let out slight gasps. There inside, lay their planes. A few trainer aircraft were parked in a corner, but they were eclipsed by the actual planes. A few F-15 Eagles, F-16's, some various MiGs- mostly 29's with a few 21's, and even a solitary Typhoon were parked and seemingly ready to go. Some were in FCU standard ghost gray, some were in camouflage colors, and a few were even in the bright colors of ceremonial planes formerly from Ugellas' air force.

"Hope I don't get one of those stupid bright red planes. That's so gay," one trainee sneered.

"Shut up, that's mean," Izzy said, "I think they're so cool. You know, I think I painted something like that in my 2nd grade art class, or was it some orange elephant or something… I'm Izzy," Izzy introduced.

"Duncan," the sneering trainee said errantly, and turned away.

"Okay, be that way," Izzy replied. A short guy next to her sighed.

"You know, why do you even try talking to people like that?" he asked. "You know they have very little in the way of positive traits."

"How do you know everything about him?" Izzy asked.

"We went to the same school; we're both from Los Canas. I'm Noah Barnes. You?"

"Isabel Daniels, but you can call me Izzy," Izzy said in a sing-song voice.

"Okay then," Noah said.

"Okay, that's enough ogling. You've gotta work to fly these planes nuggets!" Hatchet yelled. "You have half an hour to unpack your things. You _would _have been assigned roommates, but that roster was lost, with half of every other written within ISAF, so just assign yourself three to a room on the top floor. SAME GENDER! Girls towards the end on the hall; guys on the other side." Hatchet clarified, wiping the smirk off Duncan's face. Out behind Hatchet, a truck rumbled towards the group of recruits. Hatchet acknowledged the truck,

"This truck is taking you to your barracks. I want you at the simulators in the main hangar by 14 hours!"

The truck's colicky motor softened, and the pilots threw their bags into it and climbed up.

"So, you excited to begin training Courtney?" Geoff asked.

"Yeah, this could give me what I want," Courtney replied softly.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, nothing."

The truck rumbled on, leaving Hatchet in a cloud of dust. The truck continued, with everyone continuing their conversations even louder. Izzy peered out the back and off to the side, getting a feel for her new home.

"Okay, you seem _way _too crazy to be a pilot? Why'd you sign up instead of becoming… something else?" Noah asked

"Are you kidding me? Access to fighter jets, the pay, the glamour, the explosions, why wouldn't I join?" Izzy replied.

"Someone is about to have their idealism ripped from them," Noah said.

"Oh come on, we aren't at war. Besides, it can't be as bad as those movies say it is. After all, they are action movies."

"Eh, you have a point. But this won't be what you think it is, trust me," Noah said.

"Cheer up… Noah is it? It's a nice day out!"

"I'm really not going to get listened to, am I?"

Noah was met with silence from Izzy, watching a C-17 land.

"Guess not."

_4/21/96_

_Izzy was in the backseat when it all began. Her parents had decided to take leave from their jobs, and go on a vacation to some Wild West themed resort in Faith Park over Izzy's spring break. Traffic wasn't bad, the skies were bright blue, and ships still lazily floated in to Comberth Harbor. The day was simply…amazing. The bags were packed, the teal two door SUV was started, promises of souvenirs were given to Izzy's friends, and they left their home into the crisp mid-morning._

_Route 44 went from Comberth Harbor to Port Edwards while going through Faith Park near their resort, making their journey a simple drive north. The homes gave to office towers as they passed the new harbor additions made back in the late 80's, which gave to a few scattered factories which then gave way to the dry grasslands around the city. Izzy thought of various thing she could do at the resort, such as actually trying an Old West shootout! With some lifeguard or concierge or something. Or reenact the whole "Save the lady tied to railroad tracks" scene. There was a lot of exciting stuff one could do there besides just riding plain old horses._

_Izzy then began to protest the old country CD playing, "Hey mom, can we just turn on the radio? We've listened to this in the car a million times."_

"_After the next track, because…"_

"_Oh, let me guess," Izzy rudely interrupted. "You met Dad and that song was playing or something!"_

"_No," Izzy's mom snapped, "I like it. Don't speak to me like that."_

"_What do you need to say to your mother Izzy?" her dad asked._

"_Sorry," Izzy said, while rolling her eyes, "I was just honestly making a guess. That would be so sweet!" The track finished, and the next track began to play as Izzy's mom sang along. As she reached the first chorus, she noticed something._

"_Izzy, John, look at that!"_

_On the shoulder a white convertible and a red sedan were parked, and their occupants were standing there, looking distraught. One woman cried into her hands and continued to sob as Izzy's parents parked the SUV. Her parents got out, and as an afterthought, Izzy's dad moved the seat forward to let Izzy out. She sprang out and ran up to the woman._

"_What happened?" she asked in her usually fast tone. "Did you accidentally kill a squirrel or something, because I did that when making bottle rockets with lighter fluid when I was eight, and I was like, 'Oh no', and the squirrel was like 'Squeak', and I was all 'Run' and the squirrel was 'BOOM!' I cried for a really long time, but then I realized that there will always be other squirrels, and roadkill doesn't bother me as much as it used to now."_

_Izzy finished her speech, and found that the woman was still crying._

"_This isn't about squirrels," she managed to say between sobs, "and this is going to be so much bigger than a bottle rocket."_

_Izzy raised her eyebrow, returned to a grin and walked over to the convertible, where her parents and a man were standing solemnly._

"_Hey Mom, Dad," she said, "What's going on? From the looks of that lady, it sounds really dramatic."_

"_You tell her Liz," Izzy's dad said. Izzy's mom did nothing, she just pointed at the car. Izzy adopted a look of confusion, and walked over to the convertible. She grabbed the sides of the door, and leaned over to hear the radio, which was still playing despite the fact the car's engine was turned off. A government broadcast seemed to be on._

"…_Free air travel will be provided by Air Ixiom for families wishing to reunite due to the circumstances. However, all people must remain calm and ensure that order prevails. Keep hope, this may not be the end. We will go over instructions to prevent looting after the basic broadcast is repeated."_

_The station turned to static for a second, and the same voice came back again._

"_Please listen to this broadcast. It is of utmost importance for society and security." The voice paused. "In December 1994, the University of Seals Bridge made an important discovery." Another pause came. "This discovery is Ulysses1994XF04, an asteroid expected to strike the Earth." Yet another pause came, almost as if the broadcast expected gasps and skepticism. "The Univeristy, along with the Usean University of Astrophysics at Comona, have calculated Ulysses' trajectory. The projected date of impact is July 3__rd__, 1999. This is not an entertainment broadcast, nor is it a hoax. The Federation of Central Usea endorses this message, and encourages its citizens to keep safe and avoid risky behavior."_

_The broadcast then repeated the section about free flights. Izzy was hugged by her parents, and they all shared sinking feelings that asteroid or not, their world would be changed forever._

_Courtney was at school. It was cool and rainy that day, so the denizens of Newfield Island shut themselves up in their homes and classrooms for a few more minutes before going back to work after lunch. The quiet of Anderson High School's library all of a sudden became warm and inviting, and Courtney found herself in there for her lunch period, sandwich in one hand, a mystery novel in another. Her friend, Bridgette Nielsen, was sitting in the chair next to her, simply sprawled out in the chair._

"_Why are you so tired?" Courtney asked, full of her usual sort of enthusiasm._

"_Ugh, I had to take this huge science test. It was just brutal," Bridgette replied._

"_That's why you should study," Courtney said, "If you do that, you're golden!"_

"_Easy for you to say Miss 'I get everything we're learning in class but I study anyway because I'm scared of having a life.'"_

"_Oh please, I totally have a life. My schedule is full of extracurricular activities done out of my own choice, which give some social interaction, all while getting me ever closer to UNP St. Ark."_

"_My point exactly. Maybe we should go to Annette's and get some cinnamon rolls or something and possibly rent one of those sailboats once it clears out," Bridgette said._

"_I do have a life, Bridgette. I have friends, thank you very much!" Courtney huffed._

"_Courtney, please be quiet," the librarian said over from her desk._

"_Sorry Ms. Mason," Courtney mumbled. "But fine, I'll go with you after school and we'll get cinnamon rolls."_

_The loudspeaker crackled to life unexpectedly, and the principal's voice spread through the school._

"_Attention all students and teachers; please report to your homerooms and read the memos that are currently being taped to your door. Please do not be alarmed by any circumstances brought up by this announcement, thank you."_

_The message ended, and Bridgette raised an eyebrow,_

"_What was with that do not be alarmed thing? He never says that, ever."_

"_Oh, probably news of some school shooting in Amber or Erusea or somewhere, and we'll end up having some overdrawn, cheesy seminar about accepting other people," Courtney said sarcastically._

"_Oh joy. I already learned from those; I walk around with you all day!" Bridgette joked as she packed up her books and binders._

"_Hey!" Courtney exclaimed indignantly, shoving her Trapper-Keeper in her bag. The two got up from their seats, disposed of their trash, and left the library, giving halfhearted goodbyes to Ms. Mason._

"_I'll meet you outside Mr. Wilson's room or your homeroom or whatever, and we'll leave from there, okay?" Courtney said._

"_Sounds good to me, I'll see you later."_

"_Bye."_

_Bridgette went up the hall staircase, while Courtney continued to walk down the hall itself. She reached the end of the building, pushed open the door, and entered the school's courtyard, now packed with students on the go. She cut across, barely avoiding getting jostled around or getting that wet. She entered the building directly across from her, went down its hall, and entered the last room on the left. She entered her math class, with most of the class already there. Her teacher stood in the front, clutching a yellow piece of paper to her trembling hand. Courtney took her front row seat and the teacher gave her a soft greeting. Then she began to read of the paper in her hand._

"_At 10 A.M. Usean Central Time, the leaders of the FCU called all of the world's leaders to Los Canas to declare a previously unknown finding. It has been said that this finding will change the face of the world forever, and no one will remain unaffected." The teacher paused, barely able to hold back a panic attack. She took a deep breath, then spoke, not reading off the paper. "They say an asteroid is headed for the Earth."_

_The class had two reactions. Half of them sat there with their mouths open, and the other half raised their eyebrows and started talking about hoaxes and pranks and sick jokes._

"_Everybody, please be quiet. We can... Just calm down already!" The teacher shouted in a burst of confidence. Courtney raised her hand._

"_Yes, Courtney?"_

"_Um, couldn't this just be a massive prank by some seniors or something? Last year, they changed all the letters around on the sign and cut up the h to say Arson Hell. I suppose now they're doing this."_

"_Courtney, this has the government seal and the Chairman's signature on it."_

"_Oh, but it could be a very elaborate prank!"_

_Courtney's teacher said nothing, and instead went over to the TV in the corner. She turned it on, and instead of what should have been some cheap soap opera instead ended up being some sort of press conference._

"… _Osea has decided that due to the effects of last year's Belkan War, no sort of anti-Ulysses ordinance can be made on the Osean continent," a presidential looking man said. _

"_However, in order to protect the Anean continent, Estovakia has already begun to plan a weapon to…"_

_The teacher turned the television off, and Courtney spoke again._

"_That could just be a tape!"_

_The teacher turned the TV back on, with shots of some concrete circle in the desert on, and pressed the Eject button on the television twice, and nothing happened. The shots of concrete continued. Then it hit Courtney… this was real. The teacher began to read from the paper again._

"_The asteroid, codenamed Ulysses1994XF04, is expected to break into many fragments, which are to strike the Earth on July 3__rd__1999. In response to this threat, the FCU is building the Stonehenge Turret Network in a barren desert region of San Salvacion. It is unknown if this will stop all threats from Ulysses. The government instructs its citizens to remain calm and go about their daily lives. Prevent all looting and keep order in all urban areas." The teacher paused again._

"_You... you all can go home now," the teacher said. The students silently picked up their backpacks instead of taking their time to leave and having boisterous conversations. Courtney passed tens of other glum students while going back across the courtyard, through the administration building, and to Bridgette's homeroom. Bridgette was already waiting for her. She was absolutely panicked._

"_Oh my God , Courtney, this can't be happening!" Bridgette exclaimed. "But that memo looked real and the TV footage…" Bridgette trailed off. They started to walk out of the building and off campus. They stepped outside to find that the rain had stopped._

"_It looks bad… but they're building that Stonehenge thing, and I guess that'll protect people."_

"_Courtney, will it protect us? San Salvacion's a long way away."_

"_Well, at least we have three years."_

"_Yeah, we do. But we could die…and we won't even be in college!"_

"_And you say I'm negative Bridgette."_

_They reached the main road outside the school. The suburbs and the airport/air base lay before them leading to the ocean, and further up the hills, and back down lay Newfield City. They began to walk towards the suburbs._

"_Well, this isn't a good thing… but I have an idea," Bridgette said._

"_You can say it, I guess," Courtney replied. _

"_Maybe we should make the last three years the best ones ever, go out with a bang. Heck, I might even get you to do something fun before you die!"_

"_Bridgette, that stopped being funny a _long _time ago."_

"_Well, it's true."_

"_But we'll still die or get displaced in the long run. What's the point to all this and what do you plan to do anyway?" Courtney questioned._

"_I don't know. Anyways, how come no one's parents were there trying to pick anyone up? Why didn't they tell the parents their kids were being dismissed early?" Bridgette asked_

"_I don't know, I guess they thought we all take the bus. Do you have any cable car money? It's going to be a long walk."_

"_Yeah, I always have money with me. Do you still want to go to Annette's?"_

"_No, impending doom really takes away your appetite," Courtney said sarcastically._

_The cable car station lay directly ahead of them next to a gas station. Bridgette and Courtney behind them, and a cable car was cresting the hills and passing by the school._

"_Well, at least we won't have a wait," Courtney observed. The two girls covered the block between the school and the station, and they entered the next car. Neither of them could mention the breathtaking vista of the base and their home, or focus on the barely visible city behind them. The thought of it exploding in flame was just too much._

_Geoff was getting ready for his daily lessons. The day was unsurprisingly beautiful on Big Comona. His mom sat before him, holding the teacher's edition to a history textbook. Geoff would have much preferred going to public school, but his parents had thought it best to home-school him while his father served his term. So Geoff found himself sitting on an old stool with the paint long gone with his back against a tree trunk listening to his mom talk about the colonization of San Salvacion._

"_The Sapin explorers first landed on the coast in 1518. Half of the men stayed where the ships landed and founded Puerto Nuevo Mundo, and the other half went inland. After finding miles of desert to the southeast, the explorers founded a community on a lake… Geoff, are you listening?" his mom asked._

"_Oh… what again?"_

_Geoff's mom sighed._

_"I know that freshman year was much easier than sophomore year and you aren't at school, but you need to focus," she pleaded._

"_Well okay then, I guess. Maybe we should go inside."_

"_Seems good to me." They got up from their spots, picked up their books, and walked across the immaculate lawn of the Lieutenant Governor's house. They entered the home itself and sat at the large kitchen table._

"_So, when did San Salvacion get colonized?" Geoff's mom asked._

"_Um, it was 15…18?" Geoff answered hesitantly._

"_Good."_

"_Then various disputes with the Ugell civilization befell the fledgling colony…" Geoff's mom droned._

_Geoff was reduced to staring out the window, waiting for dad to come home or for three o' clock to come. The sun climbed higher past the ocean through the window, and Geoff found himself wanting to at least have an excuse to leave the house for something, as opposed to now, where he just remained here, chained to a pretty prison. He then figured why politicians were so bad; they went crazy from all of this. His mom them put down the history book and turned to science._

"_Okay Geoff, we're going over chapter 6 now. It's the water cycle, which you should be learning for the eighth time."_

"_Let me guess; the water goes up."_

"_Yes, and then it goes down. Then it goes up, then down again," Geoff's mom said, "Please tell me you know this."_

"_I do. Rain is precipitation, and then it forms water vapor when it evaporates, then it…condensates to make clouds, then after it rains again, in goes back to the ocean underground and in rivers and stuff."_

"_That's basically it."_

"_Great!"_

"_Yeah, great. That should be enough schoolwork for the day. I'll get some lunch if you want," Geoff's mom said._

"_No thanks, I'm not especially hungry."_

"_Well then, suit yourself," Geoff's mom replied._

_Geoff closed the science book, grabbed the history book, and got up. He went through the pastel perfect living room, into the marble-floored entrance, up the dramatic curving staircase, down the dimly lit hall, and into his impersonally luxurious bedroom. He flopped down on the bed and found the sheets almost smothering. He groaned aloud; not even chilling out was fun anymore now that Dad held office. So he was reduced to sitting at the room's desk, watching a group of elementary school students play kickball in Riass Park a block away. His gaze occasionally wandered to the azure ocean to the gleaming hotels and condominiums to the crowds of beachgoers visible even from here complete with fly sized surfers. He sighed; that was his world. And he was stuck in here. So what if it had a private beach and the place was some historic home, it was just too empty. Geoff knew he was a social creature and this isolation was brutal. _

_He decided to get over it at least for now, and opened one of the books that was on the homeschooler reading list. It was about these kids at some high school on the mainland who got bullied for no reason and then bad thing x and bad thing y happened to them. He hated it, it seemed like it was written simply to go in conjunction with some middle school "Don't do this" program. By now, the sun was setting, the kids in the park had gone home, but Dad wasn't home yet. Geoff was puzzled, and so he went downstairs. He found his mom in the living room, looking towards the front door._

"_Hey Mom, where's Dad at?"_

"_I don't know he honestly should be home by now. I hate this, he gone more and now I have barely anything to do all day," Geoff's mom said._

"_Yeah, I feel the same way."_

_Geoff took a seat on a different couch than his mother and a few minutes went by in silence. Finally, the door was opened by Dad's chauffeur, and in he came. Lieutenant Governor McCall looked a lot more ragged than all of the photos of him suggested, and his eyes were bloodshot. Geoff's mom got up, and went over to her husband. As she got close, he grabbed her into a tight hug._\

"_Honey, what's going on?" Geoff's mom asked._

"_You wouldn't believe me. You'd never believe me," Geoff's dad said._

"_Why?" Geoff asked._

"_Let's all sit down," Geoff's dad said._

_All three McCall's took a seat, and Geoff's dad said nothing, just turned on the television. Images flooded the screen. Numbers, computer generated images, some weird complex out in the desert. The volume was turned up._

"…_XF04 is expected to break into hundreds of pieces and strike the Earth. The world's leaders have spent the day discussing this dire threat posed by Ulysses, and various forms of combating the asteroid have been started…"_

"_An asteroid's hitting the Earth," Geoff's dad stated errantly. "It's really happening,"_

"_It might just be a tape!" Geoff exclaimed._

"_There's the channel logo in the corner," said Geoff's dad._

_That was enough info for Geoff's mom. She got up, went over to Geoff on the other couch, and hugged him tightly, holding back tears._

_Noah was relieved. His three siblings had finally decided to move on to other pursuits for the evening, leaving him with the new computer for the whole night. The TalkNet forums his friends talked about beckoned, as did this interesting Internet thing that came with TalkNet as an extra cost. He shook the mouse to dispel the screensaver, and looked for the Internet icon. He couldn't find one that said Internet, so he clicked on random icons, to no avail. Finally, after opening a word processor, getting three "need disk" windows for everyone else's games, a link that said "Data Bird" opened onto a screen with pictures with captions. As the pointer went over them, a hand appeared. Noah clicked on the first link, which ended up being some cheap tabloid story about some chick that was in the latest hit movie. Noah's opinion; all downhill from here honey. He clicked the back button at the top, and he went back to the news site's main page. He was getting a bit better at this!_

_At the bottom, some weird concrete circle in the desert was displayed in a rather large image. The caption read "Our Only Hope"?. Noah's eyebrow raised, and wondered if this was some kind of hoax. He clicked the link, and instead of a sparse white page, the page was now FCU flag blue. A wall of text greeted Noah and he started reading._

"_LOS CANAS, 10 AM,_

_Today, the leaders of the FCU, Erusea, Osea, Yuktobania, and a joint representation of Emmeria and Estovakia met in Los Canas today to discuss the biggest issue mankind will ever know – our possible extinction."_

"_MOM, DAD!" Noah shouted, "YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS! NOW!" _

_Mr. and Mrs. Barnes entered the room, eyebrows raised, wondering why Noah was so concerned… and loud._

"_You have to see this. It's so hilarious what people are trying to pass off as news nowadays!" Noah exclaimed._

_Noah's dad walked up to the computer and leaned over the desk. He read aloud the first sentence, looked at Noah with a confused expression, and continued to read on._

"_The government of the FCU has declared the existence of an asteroid codenamed 'Ulysses1994XF04' which is expected to strike the Earth on July 3__rd__1999."_

_Noah's dad scrolled down, going to the last section._

"_However, there is a solution. The Stonehenge Turret Network is being built in a desert region of Eastern Usea, and will be completed in 1998. Rumors of individual projects being carried out by Erusea and Estovakia are also going around."_

_Noah's dad turned to a map of Usea next to the text. There was a circle around most of the continent, with Stonehenge in the middle of it._

"_Look, we're in the middle of Stonehenge's range. Asteroid or not, we'll be safe, and our lives will go on as normal."_

"_I'd say the same thing," said Noah's mother. They both left the room to continue watching their favorite show. As they left, Noah got the sinking feeling that maybe, just maybe, that was the actual site of the FCU, and Stonehenge or not, stability and safety would definitely be lost. For how long, he couldn't guess. Noah shook off the article, closed out Data Bird, and decided to get the disk for that strategy game his recommended to anyone listening. After all, asteroids striking the Earth sounded like the plot to horrible, horrible movies with too much money put into them, and usually get known only for their soundtrack. But then he heard a frustrated voice._

"_Dad, my radio is spouting out psycho end of the world nonsense!" his older sister shouted from upstairs._

"_That's odd, Noah read an end-of-the-world article on the computer!" Noah's dad shouted back. He turned on the television, already set to his favorite show. Pictures of Stonehenge appeared on the screen, followed by a press conference as opposed to a corny sitcom two seasons past its recommended cancellation date._

"_I'm getting the same stuff!" Noah's dad shouted back upstairs._

"_What the heck is going on then?" his sister questioned._

"_It's all real," Noah said to himself. He put the disk back in its plastic case, and set the case down on the computer desk. He wasn't in any mood for games anymore. He went towards the stairs to tell his siblings what exactly was going on, with a massive pit in his stomach. Maybe it _was _the end._

The truck came to a stop with screeching brakes. The pilots gathered their bags and hopped down onto a parking lot. Courtney jumped down and looked at her new home, which ended up being the airport hotel, now draped in camouflage sheets in a halfhearted attempt to look like it was intended for a military purpose. The pilots practiced their confident swaggers as they entered, already excited about the prospects of being pilots. The lobby was dusty, and looked like it hadn't been renovated in over two decades. A few other airmen milled about on the green marble floor, nodding towards the stairs. The elevator had an "Officers Only" sign taped beside the door, which elicited a few groans.

"They think they can get everything, huh," Izzy said to Courtney, having joined her.

"They _are _officers, Izzy. They're our superiors and they get benefits. It's how it's been, so stop complaining," Courtney replied.

"Geez, you're kinda tense, you know that?"

"I've gotten that a lot over the years."

Geoff opened the door and held it open for the two, and they went up six flights of stairs to the top floor.

"Ugh, that's going to be a lot just for everyday," Izzy complained.

"It's not that bad," Courtney said.

Izzy opened her mouth, but decided not to say anything.

"So, um… uh I hope my car doesn't get stolen," Izzy said meekly, trying to change the topic.

"You have a car?" Courtney asked as they entered a vacant room just past a sign that said "Women's barracks."

"Yeah, my parents' old one, they bought a new one as soon as Erusean Automotive went back into business before the boycotts."

"Okay, so where is it, by the capitol?"

"No, I parked it just outside the airport, then I met up with the group at the recruitment center."

A tap on Courtney's shoulder brought attention to a newcomer.

"This is the only girl room with vacancy, so… yeah," a woman said. She seemed older than Izzy or Courtney, about thirtyish with dark blonde hair. She had a serious yet disinterested look on, and was carrying a green duffel bag.

"I'm Mary Simmons, formerly with the Osean Air Defense Force."

"I'm Izzy and that's Courtney. Why'd you leave Osea? It's so… perfect over there," Izzy asked.

"Yeah, well, they've downsized the air force and I didn't want to fly commercial. That, and I actually wanted a bit more combat experience. I was a nugget during the Belkan War and…"

"Combat experience? There won't be a war!" Izzy exclaimed.

"What rock have you been hiding under lately? Erusea's getting aggressive; that new party or whatever is using the remaining refugees and the boycotts to try to get political dominance, and I don't know why. That obviously means a pointless war is on the horizon. Belka did it in the early 90's," Mary calmly replied.

Courtney looked at the digital clock on a bedside table in the corner, which read 13:41.

"We'll take that into consideration. We'll talk later, but Izzy and I need to get to training NOW!" Courtney said.

"First day of training huh? Have fun," Mary said sarcastically as the two left the room. On their way out, they ran into Noah, Geoff, and Duncan walking down the hall.

"Hey guys, we have an Osean roommate!" Izzy said in her typical excited tone.

"Why the hell would some Osean hippie liberal join an army, let alone ISAF?" Duncan said.

"And you would be?" Courtney asked. "And by the way, she does not seem like a liberal."

"Whatever, I'm Duncan. Duncan Davidson. Say, maybe we could get to know each other a little better privately," Duncan said, eyebrows raised.

Courtney adopted a face of disgust and anger, "I dare you to continue speaking."

"Whoa, simmer down!" Geoff exclaimed as he held open the door down the stairs. "We should just get down to business."

Noah and Izzy nodded to show their approval. The group went down the sparse stairs, through the dingy lobby and out front, where the truck remained, still idling. Most of the pilots were there, and they left soon after. As they went around one of the outlying terminals, a large gray hangar came into view. The truck sped towards it, and then came to a stop in front of two propped open side doors. The recruits, now one big energetic group again filed through to find two rows of simulators. Hatchet stood before them.

"So nuggets, your flight training begins. I will be your instructor and I will turn you into a pilot. It won't be like the movies, and definitely not like those silly commercials. But I have one question – are you good enough?"

Throughout the group, there was a mental chorus of 'Yes.'

**So, was this appreciated? Any suggestions? Please tell me by reviewing.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Again, BandaiNamco and Teletoon own everything, enjoy.**

"_The whole world is watching us because if these cannons don't do the trick, then it's all over. At the same time, many people have started to realize their offensive potential. If anything happens, we sure won't be sitting and doing nothing._"

_-Dr. Yang__ Tomic, _Our Science_ magazine "Titan Guns" article, Apr. 20__th__, 1998._

_The 21__st__ Century has proven to be a difficult time, after a difficult road of getting here. There have been many losses over the past six years, but now marks the end. To bring back stability to Usea, the FCU and four other political entities are now forming the Independent States Allied Forces, or ISAF. This centralized government will allow for easier economic growth and rebuilding._

_-__FCU President Robert Sinclair- June 1__st__, 2002_

8/20/03

The day of the last training exercise had come. For months, the pilots had used the simulators, seeing who had the necessary piloting talent, and who didn't. This group had been awful, as Hatchet said to them at the end of each day, but there were a few good pilots, and they learned as the others' dreams were dashed. Most of the aircraft were gone, given to other squadrons leaving them left-over planes of various types, and all the maintenance and logistics nightmares that implied.

Courtney had been issued an aging F-15 Eagle, painted ISAF dark blue. Courtney had hated the plane wanting the Typhoon, but like a young girl getting a bad Christmas gift, pretended to love it. Izzy, having the most discipline problems, had naturally shown the most natural talent so she was taken out of the former MiG-21 group, and given the solitary strawberry red Typhoon. Noah had been assigned another Eagle, this one gray, as was Geoff's F-16. Finally, Duncan had a MiG-29, painted in camo which many found fitting. Together, these five formed the future Vapor squadron. Today's exercise was simple, firing live ammo at remote controlled planes. The squadron was already in the sky, past Los Canas' suburbs and over the forest training grounds.

"So, it's a shame I'm going to be depriving you guys of experience today," Duncan boasted.

"This is the part where I say something to deflate your ego to normal levels, but that's not humanly possible," Noah replied.

"Cut the chatter," Mary said from her own Typhoon. She was the supervisor while Hatchet took care of the other trainees, "Um, bogeys right in… er, on the nose," she said, trying to remember ISAF jargon.

"Roger," Courtney said. On the edge of her radar, a white blip appeared, and a green square appeared in front of her on her HUD at the plane's location. She engaged the afterburners and sped forth. The target was an old F-4 that looked as if only a few gun rounds would cause it to fall apart. It lazily flew perpendicular to her plane slightly off to her left. The square around it turned red, and she turned her yoke to the right. The plane turned, and Courtney came out of it slightly to the right of the F-4, but was facing the same way. She smiled, and fired a missile, turning the aging jet into a fireball. Courtney looked to see Noah and Izzy each take out a plane with their guns.

"Three bandits down, I repeat, three bandits down," Mary reported, getting a "roger" from base control.

Geoff closed in on another plane, this one a MiG-15, and fired a Sidewinder, exclaiming "Fox Two" over the radar. The plane curved away, sending the missile off track. Geoff scowled, and accelerated towards the plane in a loose turn. He fired another missile, which impacted this time. In only a few minutes, twelve practice targets were destroyed, certifying the five trainees as combat pilots. The six immediately turned south and headed back to base.

"So Duncan, what about experience deprivation again?" Izzy asked.

"It's only because you guys rushed ahead to shoot them down. You'll end up running out of fuel," Duncan countered.

"That's kind of a weak excuse, man," Geoff replied.

"Whatever."

"Cut the chatter," Mary said, "and prepare for landing; I can see the city."

Six sets of landing gear rotated out of their spots and the airbrake was applied as Mary and her trainees prepared to land. The other five did the same and Mary and Noah pointed the noses of their planes down until their wheels touched the runway, and then brought their planes to a stop alongside each other. The process was repeated by Courtney and Duncan, and finally Izzy and Geoff landed. After the landing, the pilots taxied back to the hangar, clambered down the ladders set alongside their cockpits, took off their helmets and started to walk back to the crew quarters.

Courtney walked beside Noah. "So, I heard they're officially certifying us tonight. It kind of seems like they just want us out of this base as soon as possible," she said.

"Some spy plane picked up a lot of Erusein troops mobilizing towards the border or something, and top brass across town want as many pilots as possible when they attack. Probably another false alarm, they're just pissy at everyone," Noah replied.

"True, but something has to give sometime."

"Courtney, what are the odds it'll happen today?"

"Okay, now you're just tempting fate."

"No, I'm not. Stop thinking about it. Duncan's trying to nab all the new recruits' money at cards…again. He told me this morning. Can you put a stop to this?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll rain on Duncan's parade after graduation."

Courtney strode away from Noah and met up with Mary.

"So, do you know who'll end up squadron leader?" Courtney asked.

"No, they'll pick someone tonight. I actually heard they'll just yank some enlisted personnel and send 'em on the officer track. Isn't that stupid? ISAF's lack of any sort of planning, logistics, or even basic thought is actually quite amazing in how awful it is. Then again, it is a bunch of militaries tossed together, so what do you expect?" Mary replied, nearly straying off into a rant.

A truck stood ahead of the group, and they climbed into it. The airport hotel loomed ahead, and the pilots got out, and entered the hotel. The lobby was surprisingly crowded, given that most of the nuggets were usually training nonstop, leaving little time to relax.

"Hey, who are these people?" Duncan asked, "Did they really get all of these nuggets in one day?"

"Uh, Duncan, if any branch of the military meets its recruitment quota, Hell has officially frozen over," Izzy retorted. She then lapsed into her usual rapid-fire tone, "Speaking of which, my dad and I made a model of what we thought Hell looked like and we put it in our freezer once. My mom found it and said we could get her a diamond… bracelet, yeah, bracelet and…"

"We get it Izzy," Duncan said.

The group dispersed. Duncan went into the former indoor pool for cards, not bothering to change out of his flight suit, and Noah and Geoff went down the hall towards the stairs. Courtney followed suit, scaled up the six threadbare flights of stairs, and sauntered down to her room. She sat cross-legged on the floor, pulled out a black duffel bag from under her bed, and retrieved a black CD case and a battered portable CD player. She found her favorite CD and played it, letting somber lyrics and synthesized melodies flow straight to her mind. She flipped through the pages; flipping through the pages looking for the next CD she would play. At the back lay an ignored gold mix CD. She looked at it, closed the case and placed it back in the bag. As the songs washed into her mind and flowed back out and the sun dropped lower in the sky, Courtney sat with her eyes closed in a near trance, as if she wanted to leave the world behind. The world caught up to her via a tap on the shoulder.

She turned to find Geoff looming over her.

"Your door was open, and the graduation thing's in twenty minutes. We're all heading over to the terminal right now, man," he said.

Courtney wound the headphones around the CD player and put it back in the bag. She got up and followed Geoff down the stairs and joined up with their three squadron-mates, and they walked out the door in a state of excited silence, across the now abandoned avenue leading to the city, through the vast parking lot, and into the airport terminal. When they got to the former VIP lounge set aside for the graduation, they found that partitions had been set up and it now served as quarters for ground troops now stationed here. An old "Floor Is Wet" sign had been set up with a piece of paper taped to it saying "Air Force certification now in Hangar C."

"And they really couldn't have told us earlier?" Noah questioned, "We're going to be late."

"Eh, guess we'll just have to run," Izzy said with a smile. True to form, she immediately ran out a side door, and the others followed suit. After a mad dash across the tarmac, annoying drivers of various vehicles, they reached the hangar with the outline of what used to be a "C" on it. A side door lay open and they found a few rows of seats in front of a makeshift podium. The five took seats in the back row just before Hatchet came out from the opposite side and stepped up to the podium.

Hatchet scowled at the papers before him, then at the group of pilots who were now actually certified as combat capable. This group had been so eager, and actually listened to him. Naturally, they had the smallest amount of talent he'd ever seen. And for the remaining pilots; he had to give this stupid speech that seemed more suited for a high school graduation, or better yet, being thrown into a fireplace. That way, it could at least be used for warmth. He sighed before turning toward the microphone, and spoke. Unsurprisingly, no one paid attention, and Hatchet was left speaking to glazed eyes and wandering minds.

"You have undergone rigorous training, to the best standards, to be prepared for what the 21st Century has to offer you in ISAF. We live in drastically different times than ever before you must therefore be different. We suffered heavy losses in 98' and the Ulysses Impacts, but you are the ones to fill that void and return us to stability, hope, and…"

Suddenly, red lights began to flash in the corner of the hangar, snapping everyone back to attention.

"And apparently, peace too," Hatchet added.

The base commander, an older, portly man, burst through the side door and took the microphone.

"Erusea declared war an hour ago. They've just begun attacking targets. Your first mission is to defend our fleet at Axel Bay. A large number of Erusean naval fighters are on their way right now! This fleet is vital to ISAF's navy. We need to at least get those ships out of there! We'll give you an in-flight briefing. Also, another squadron needs to get to Stonehenge ASAP! Erusea just invaded San Salvacion. We can't protect the country, but we can protect Stonehenge. If the Erusians take it…"

The base commander shuddered and ran out, obviously having more important matters to attend to.

"Congratulations, you've all been promoted to Airmen First Class. Now scramble the planes already!" Hatchet shouted.

The newly formed Vapor squadron sprang up from their seats.

"This isn't possible. There can't be a war!" Noah exclaimed.

"What did I tell you about tempting fate?" Courtney replied.

Hatchet walked over to the stunned group.

"Okay, your planes already are carrying air to air weaponry, so you're headed to Stonehenge. We need as many people as we can get for Axel Bay, so you five are going alone with the AWACS. Airman Marris," Hatchet said.

"Yes?"

"You're squadron leader; I'll get you your Second Lieutenant pins when you get back. McCall, you're number two. Davidson and Daniels, you're Vapor three and four. Barnes, you can probably guess your number. Dismissed."

Thoughts of dread filled Courtney's mind. How on Earth could they just hand over officer status like that? You had to go to school for that… she had none of the qualifications necessary… until she remembered the situation. Considering everything else that happened and was happening now, she guesses it wasn't as huge as she thought. The other pilots had already started running for their planes, and Courtney followed suit.

The five pilots of Vapor Squadron hurried over to their planes. The crews were already loading the last of the missiles on to the planes.

Vapor squadron found that their planes were, unsurprisingly, just as they had been six hours ago. Their helmets lay on their seats, and they put them on. The canopies of the five jets were closed, and they ran their systems checks as the other former trainees taxied by to leave for Axel Bay. Finally, they turned their motley assortment of planes towards the runway. Perched at the edge, Geoff voiced his doubts.

"You guys think this'll end badly?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter," Duncan said, "We go in, we blow up what we have to, and we head back to base."

"Cut the chatter and take off," Courtney said. This was her squadron now, and she demanded exemplary combat behavior.

Courtney and Geoff's planes took up each side of the runway, and they barreled down it and took off, followed by Izzy, Duncan, and finally Noah. A voice boomed out over the radio,

"This is AWACS Shade; we'll be covering your squadron for all sorties. Proceed at vector 270 and head eastward to Stonehenge.

At Courtney's increasingly more frustrated commands, Vapor Squadron settled into the rapid journey northeast.

"So… you guys think they already took Stonehenge?" Geoff asked.

"It doesn't matter, we just need to gain air superiority," Courtney responded.

"Vapor 1, if they take the facility, air superiority means nothing," Noah replied.

"No, it means the Erusians will have the capability to destroy asteroids. Increase speed and head north, we're getting close," Courtney commanded.

The ground was desert now, with a few occasional hills.

"We're receiving reports right now," Shade said from the white plane above them, "Erusean fighters and other craft have been sighted in the vicinity of Stonehenge. Jettison auxiliary fuel tanks and intercept!"

"Roger that," Courtney replied.

"You think they'll manage to take it?" Izzy asked.

"Shut up and engage, Stonehenge is on the nose," Courtney said, wanting to leave the topic. The first glimpses of weathered concrete appeared on the horizon, and Stonehenge loomed beneath the pilots. A concrete wall surrounded the facility, and inside laid eight massive guns set in a circle, with a command center in the middle. They overflew the facility, and before they could comment on anything, a voice came over the radio.

"Attention ISAF aircraft, this is John Harvard, callsign Slash. I'm leading the mercenaries who're supposed to protect this place. We're fighting Erusian bandits ten miles to the east, you assistance is needed!"

"Vapor 2, Vapor 3, come with me to destroy the fighters. Vapor 4, Vapor 5, make sure no attacks come from any other fronts," Courtney ordered.

"Roger!" Izzy replied.

Courtney accelerated her plane, and soon a dogfight came into view. A few F-22 Raptors, apparently the mercenaries, were engaged with many Erusean fighters. Courtney's first target was an aging F-16, whose pilot was too preoccupied with trying to destroy a Raptor with its guns. The missile lock signal beeped and she fired a Sidewinder. The missile hit right in the engine exhaust, and the plane exploded.

"This is Vapor 1, bandit down."

Courtney didn't see an ejection chute. It dawned on her that she had killed someone. But the effect wasn't… profound. She felt as if she was supposed to have some sort of "What have I done" moment, but the explosion didn't faze her, it felt like she had simply done something new. She thought no more of it and eased her way into the mass of the action and acquired a new target.

Ten miles away, Noah and Izzy patrolled over Stonehenge itself.

"Do ya' think the situation is really under control?" Izzy asked.

"I can't tell. Besides, if it wasn't, the Lieutenant would _never_ admit it, would she?"

"Right, anyways…hey wait a second… what's that?"

"Vapor 4, I don't really want to know what thing it is you're seeing."

Izzy's plane sped forth and the slow moving bulk of three C-17s came into view.

"Shade, this is Vapor 4, Erusean transports inbound!"

"Roger that Vapor 4, engage," Shade said, "Vapors 1 through 3, continue to engage fighters."

"Vapor 5 engaging," Noah said. He turned his plane towards the transports. Izzy was already there. She turned her plane and leveled out right behind the lead transport. She breathed in and said to herself "it's just like a video game; it's just like a video game." Finally, she unleashed a short hail of 27 millimeter shells that pierced the transport's wing, disabling two engines and starting a fire. The plane, clearly holding something heavy, listed to one side and began a slow and steep descent. One of the other transports then let something fall out of its hold.

"Tanks! I repeat, airborne tanks are being dropped from the transport planes!" Noah exclaimed.

"Roger, destroy them," Shade said, now sounding slightly nervous about the situation.

"We have no air to ground ordnance!" Noah shouted.

"Well, use your guns!" Shade shouted back, "There aren't any reinforcements within two hours of here!"

Meanwhile Geoff found himself contorting his plane and his stomach just trying to get a lock on a fighter. A few of the Eruseans were really good pilots, and they made sure Geoff knew it. He yanked the yoke hard to the left after the "Missile Alert" warning appeared on his HUD. He turned right again, to find the fighter had changed direction, and was now headed towards him. He quickly fired a missile, and the pilot began to turn hard right. However, it wasn't enough, and just before the missile hit, the pilot somehow managed to eject right before the missile struck, obliterating the plane.

"Vapor 2, splashed one!" At the same time, Duncan locked onto an enemy fighter of his.

"Vapor 3, Fox Two!" Duncan shouted. He turned with the enemy plane and fired one of his missiles, hoping for the two to connect. Unfortunately, that didn't happen, leaving the missile to shoot off into empty space. Vapor Three growled and yanked his plane hard left, trying to regain the lock. The fighter reappeared and he grinned as he engaged his afterburners, moving in for the kill. The words, "Missile Alert" appeared in the center of his HUD, and he turned hard again. The missile seemed to follow him through the turn, and just as the tiny speck on his radar was almost on top of his plane, the missile shot past, to the left of his canopy. Duncan let out a sigh of relief, and continued engaging the other planes. Others weren't so lucky. Two of the mercenaries had been shot down, despite their experience and advanced aircraft, leaving their leader and one other.

Noah and Izzy's battle over Stonehenge wasn't going any better either. While they had shot down three transports, four tanks were on the ground, steadily advancing towards Stonehenge's entrance. Izzy turned from the transports, slowed her airspeed, and pointed her plane down. There were the tanks, churning up a cloud of dust. The circle on her HUD moved towards the tanks as she aimed, and right when the dot in the circle's center landed on a tank, she fired. A hail of gunfire spewed from the front of her plane, and it impacted the tank. At first, the armor held, but after a few seconds the rounds broke through and the tank stopped. She turned to the next one, and fired her gun, destroying another tank, at the expense of most of her gunfire. She leveled out her plane and rapidly climbed back up, to find another squadron of five transports was inbound.

"Shade, more transports are coming!" Izzy exclaimed over the radio.

"Roger that," Shade replied, "and it also looks like these have escort fighters."

Noah, having just finished off his second transport, settled into formation alongside Izzy. Together they proceeded towards the transports, nervous about the alleged escorts. Before they could intercept, five more planes shot on to radar. The fighters were fast, shooting past the transports and immediately firing their missiles.

Izzy, bewildered for a moment at the incoming missile, barely managed to yank her yoke hard right and somehow shake off the missile. She turned again trying to get behind one of these planes, but they just seemed to be doing… something. Whatever this something was, it kept them away from Izzy's twelve o'clock. Another missile forced her into a dive just as one of the enemies finally crossed in front of her. It was a SU-27 Flanker, or one of its derivatives painted in camouflage with yellow wingtips.

"This is Vapor 4, everyone stay away from the yellow planes!" she warned.

"Roger that," Courtney replied. Her dogfight nearby wasn't going well. The Eruseans had Courtney cornered, and the two remaining mercenaries had disengaged due to lack of fuel, ordnance, or both, leaving her performing increasingly gut-wrenching maneuvers trying only to be out of firing range.

She engaged her afterburners, and managed to somehow get out of range of the other fighters. She deployed her airbrake, and turned very sharply, and felt her stomach rise up to her throat. She had most of her gun ammo left, and four missiles, having expended both of her Sidewinders. She switched to her SAAMs, hoping their greater range would be an advantage. The enemy fighters, a few F-16s, were getting closer.

Courtney was almost in range and about to make a killing shot, when suddenly, the fighters disengaged. She figured they were out of fuel, so she turned around and headed towards Noah and Izzy to try to destroy the tanks massing at the main gate. Transmissions from Stonehenge's command center had gone silent, and defeat was looking imminent. As Courtney overflew Stonehenge, a white streak appeared right in front of her canopy in the distance. A missile. She hit the afterburners and climbed up. The missile was still following her plane on radar, so she jerked hard right, then hard left, then dived. She pulled out of the dive to find the missile had lost track, and then she found the enemy. Courtney wasn't sure of what this plane was; it looked like a Super Flanker. She decided not to engage it, and to destroy the tanks instead.

That front however, wasn't going well. Noah was busy distracting the Yellows as Izzy, Duncan and Geoff strafed the tanks, which wasn't doing much. Only a few tanks were destroyed, with ten still intact, and the gate couldn't take much more damage. On top of that, Izzy had now run out of rounds, leaving her with two missiles

"This is Vapor 1, I'll join Vapor 5 in top cover," Courtney said into the radio, though she knew it wasn't top cover, it was a gauntlet.

Duncan was frustrated. He had emptied half of his magazine, with nothing to show for it. He would dive down to hit the tanks with his guns, create nothing but a large plume of sand and dust, pull up, nearly get a missile up his tailpipe and repeat. If this was how all sorties went, he was quitting as soon as possible. Finally, he managed to plug a tank with a few shells… to have the rounds bounce off. _Damn,_ he hated this job.

Izzy was doing a bit better, having destroyed the one tank from earlier and three transport planes. However, now she had none of her magazine left to destroy the tanks as a dogfight raged above her. She was drenched in sweat and her hand was beginning to tremble, fearing at this rate her hand would slip off the throttle. Blood and sweat were already on her hands, so she only needed tears now, she thought.

Geoff was the one attacking when the tanks burst through. He was about to hit one, when he heard a huge thud huge thud. He turned his plane around to find that tanks were streaming across the facility and surrounding the command center. Vapor Squadron fired a few bursts of gunfire, but it was too little, too late.

"All Vapor units, disengage and RTB. Stonehenge has been lost; I repeat Stonehenge has been lost."

"Damn it," Courtney muttered under her breath. There was no way they could lose the first battle of the war!

"Vapor 1, we request permission to descend to below 2000 feet," Noah asked.

"Vapor 5, that isn't necessary," Courtney replied.

"Agreed," Shade replied. No orders have come from high command except to return to Los Canas.

Shade, far away from the mess at Stonehenge, began to turn southeast, and the fighters followed, beginning their grim journey back.

Forty-five minutes later, Beth Sorenski was hastily packing the last of her things. The Erusian onslaught had terrified the locals. In times past, they would have taken refuge in the various ancient castles that dotted the landscape, but now the only option was to flee east. And so it was with Beth. Under her cat's "supervision," she jammed blouses and jeans and skirts over her little brother's game console, as her dad locked their large valuables, like the grandfather clock in the basement.

"Beth, they've already taken Stonehenge," her mother said, checking public radio for news, "we have to go!"

"Coming," she said. She kicked the cat away from her feet, dropped her suitcase in the front hall; made sure her cat got in the car, and decided to take one last look off the back deck.

Her house was in an area considered extremely beautiful, with castles, wineries, and medieval churches; and all of those were summed up in a view of rolling hills just past the relatively nondescript tract homes and strip malls. Beth stared for a minute, wondering what would be lost if the Erusians made it here. The sky suddenly rippled in waves of energy, prompting many to look upwards in awe. Beth remembered that sight, that summer day seemingly so long ago...

Then, flaming wreckage came down, striking vacated homes and parked cars. The office supply store on the edge of town took what looked like a jet engine and collapsed. The peaceful Usean suburb was transformed into a mass of confusion and carnage.

Just like then, Beth thought. No, it couldn't be! Those days were long gone and the Erusians would be defeated quickly! But there it was; fires and impact sites.

She turned around and sprinted through her house, locking the sliding glass door behind her and closing all the curtains. On her own street, the Johnsons' home had been destroyed, leaving only the hints of walls. Had they already left? Beth couldn't remember. It didn't matter. She grabbed a few more of her things from her room, jammed them in her pockets, and headed out front. Her suitcase was already in the jam-packed station wagon, so she got in the passenger seat, the only place not stacked with stuff—and nearly sat on the cat. She placed Lord Fuffles between two boxes, and he meowed in delight at his makeshift burrow. Beth sat, buckled up, and her mom's station wagon followed her dad and brother in the other car as they left their home to its fate.

Panicked attitudes prevailed among Vapor Squadron, thousands of feet up.

"Oh my God, was our AWACS destroyed?" Izzy asked in terror and confusion.

"Shade, respond, respond!" Geoff shouted over the radio, to no avail.

"What even was that?" Courtney asked?

"Vapor 1, that was something we like to call Stonehenge," Noah said, "We need to drop below two thousand feet right now if we want to live. No doubt they're attacking all ISAF planes in the air right now."

"Roger that. All Vapors, descend."

All five planes descended close to the ground, just as another round of Stonehenge's massive guns rippled on the horizon. They flew over a certain station wagon in a thick exodus of traffic, crushing the spirits of a sixteen-year-old girl.

_**Merona, Erusea**_

_**Earlier that day**_

Golden hills flew past the car window as Katie drove down Route 30. Another visit to Grandma's in Farbanti had come and gone, and she was glad she caught up with her family and old friends; because it seemed like she wasn't able to for a long time, all things considered.

The car was laughable; a ten-year-old, two door, base model Emmerian subcompact that had the alleged benefit of being some "Limited Edition" convertible, making the tiny car look even smaller with a trunk as opposed to a hatch. It did however, tackle the switchbacks of the highway with relative ease.

Katie accelerated slightly above the speed limit on a straightaway. Her decision to stay overnight maybe wasn't such a good idea when she was needed for the afternoon shift. The radio was playing a lilting, folksy tune. The car turned around one big hill after an incline, and the whole justification for the indirect highway came into view: the Spring Sea, sparkling deep blue as the road straightened out to give a view of faintly visible fishing trawlers and sped past distressed whitewashed cottages and jetties.

The houses and a few businesses appeared in clusters now, with a few tourist draws, such as waterslides and boat rentals, now decayed. And just where one would think the town center would be, there lay a small bay. A gleaming new bridge went across its center, and as Katie got a slightly higher vantage point, she could see how perfectly circular it was. She took her mind off the bay, and the memories of the same drive from not long ago, and continued home. Her own town, Merona, lay a few miles ahead. It had the same aesthetic as its neighbor, but it seemed charmingly so, as it had been planned.

Her dashboard clock read 11:30, meaning she wasn't needed at her job for another hour and a half, which would her a bit of time to unwind. She drove through the town, giving the occasional wave at neighbors and headed towards the beach. Katie's home was a tiny shingle cottage perched right on the dunes, bought for a song in 1998. She parked the car and opened the front door. The faded blue couch and love seat in the living room matched, but little else did. No one she had invited over had ever noticed, the sliding sliding doors out to a graying deck and a marvelous view took their attention instead. All in all, the little house was exactly what you'd expect from a beach home.

Katie was watching the news when the war started. The picture changed from the anchorwoman with too much plastic surgery to a the Supreme Commander, the man in charge of the "emergency government."

"Attention, citizens of the Free Erusian Republic. All scheduled programming has been interrupted for this momentous occasion. Ever since Ulysses, with the loss of our General Assembly and displacements of our people, our country has been hobbled. We have sated the demands of the FCU in their new guise, the ISAF. We have taken in their refugees, driven by panic, in exchange for feeding and housing our own. We watched our cities decay, as theirs rebuilt. We watched their factories come back to life, as ours rust. We watched them grow rich again, on the backs of us, Osea, and Emmeria. We watched them crinkle their noses at disgust at us. We let them keep us hobbled with their embargos and boycotts. We let them gang up on us and declare us monsters. We have let our country, and you, down. Which is why after four years, we have had enough. Today is the turning point, today is our defiance, today is our…"

The phone rang. Katie got up and picked up the receiver, and went as close to the television as the cord would let her.

"Oh hey, Tyler. No, I don't think he'll declare war or anything, he keeps making these kinds of speeches… yeah, he sounds like a megalomaniac…"

The Commander's speech continued, "Today is the day when the dogs of the Federation of Central Usea see exactly what we as a people have endured. Today is the day we declare war!"

"Okay, maybe I was wrong, Tyler, but come on! The High Court wouldn't dare approve that; they'll send the troops back in a week!" Katie said out of desperation, "What do you mean I'm naïve?" she asked after Tyler's reply.

"In light of this new situation, the executive branch and the military will govern the country in the interim."

"Or not… but no one's going to approve, Tyler, trust me!"

Suddenly, the line went dead. Katie placed the phone down, momentarily confused. She figured it was the first wartime sacrifice. She'd meet up with Tyler later, but for now she'd just go to work, with the thoughts of tanks and bombs and guns (again!) weighing heavily in her mind.

She thought about the snippets of the Supreme Commander's speech as she turned off the television and headed out the door. The Commander was right, but this wasn't going to help. Not after the Ulysses riots and the crackdowns, the lack of food, the death, the impact, all of those things. They couldn't get back all the good people who had fled to Osea or to ISAF. They couldn't get their best days back, before Ulysses, meaning now, they had to grope in the darkness of the 21st Century.

When Vapor Squadron returned to Los Canas, the mood was extremely grim. Though the ISAF fleet had gotten out of Axel Bay and was now regrouping on the Petrol Coast, the Erusians had made significant strides into Delarus, Amber, and San Salvacion. Vapor squadron didn't care about that or their newfound kills; they simply got out of their planes, took long, hot showers, counted up their kills, got something to eat, and went to bed early. The next couple of weeks flew by; Hatchet and Mary worked their tails off trying to teach new recruits.

Military life had loosened up in an effort to gain as many new pilots as possible leading to some of the oddest people Noah had seen in a military uniform. There was Lindsay "Angel" Reynolds, some blonde ditz; Zeke "Duster" Benson, who had light experience flying crop dusters as his callsign implied, and no communication skills; and F-14 Trent "Riff" Donovan and his RIO DJ "Drum" Woodcomb.

Donovan and Woodcomb were an interesting case; their naval squadron in their native Emmeria was supposed to have been sent over as aid, but Emmeria had backed out of the war, saying their situation was too unstable to give Usea aid in its losing war, leaving the two to join ISAF.

The rest of the world was apathetic. Osea's only response was a longwinded speech that boiled down to "Not our problem." Yuktobania had acted in lockstep, and Emmeria had a seemed determined to not speak of the war at all after public opinion turned against it. Some of the smaller nations, however, gave condolences: Aurelia, Ustio, Sapin, and even Belka, of all places, expressed a willingness to help but could not spare the personnel; they were too small or, in Belka's case, forced to do what Osea said to.

This left Usea in a state of panic. Ugellans were flooding into Los Canas, and residents of Los Canas were fleeing to Comberth Harbor, Port Edwards, Expo City and what was left of St. Ark; and residents of those cities were headed to North Point. The TV networks were already over reporting the potential for another emigration from Usea altogether. Geoff's birthday had come and gone in a blur of heavy drinking by him and Izzy with lots of bad karaoke.

The mighty Istas Fortress fell on September 29, sending the base and the ISAF headquarters across town into a panic. Rumors of a planned fallback to St. Ark were going around, and Izzy naturally tried to distract herself. The squadron, plus Trent, was squeezed into Izzy's teal SUV heading to some place that catered to Izzy and Geoff. Sure enough, Izzy scraped her paint parallel parking in front a dingy-looking bar uptown.

"So, who's going to be driving back?" Trent asked. Four pairs of eyes immediately turned to Courtney.

"Okay, guess Courtney does," Trent said. The six entered the bar to find that the interior wasn't as dingy as the exterior. Courtney and Noah sat at the corner table as everyone else immediately headed to the bar. Trent joined the two.

"So, um, why do you guys stay away from everyone?" Trent asked.

Courtney didn't respond;she twirled a pen in her right hand and stared out into the evening. Noah nudged her.

"Oh, sorry," Courtney said in her chipper fashion, "I don't drink, I don't need it… and the demerits."

"Okay, what are you always thinking about? Even _I _have better focus than you do," Noah asked.

"Hey! At least I get involved in squadron matters," Courtney retorted.

"Uh, are you sure about that?" Izzy shouted over from the bar, "You just do what you're supposed to and then hide yourself away whenever you can.

"Izzy, you could at least hold the pretense of not knowing everyone else's conversations," Noah said, visibly irritated.

"S'no fun," Izzy mumbled just loud enough to hear.

"This is an interesting squadron," Trent found himself muttering under his breath.

Izzy then proceeded to forcibly drag Noah to join her in drink.

"So, is that true?" Trent asked.

"No," Courtney said, "I come out here."

"And you're doing nothing," Trent replied.

"Hey!" Courtney said.

"Sorry, you do."

"Come on, do you really think I'm like the rest of my squad?" Courtney huffed, "Well, except Noah."

"No, but you are solitary. Why don't you just go over with everyone else, I'll drive back to base," Trent suggested.

"No, I…" Courtney paused, realizing she didn't really have a reason, "You know what, I'll just head back myself. You drive Izzy and everyone else home, okay?" she decided.

Courtney got up, and walked out onto the street corner for a bus, which came in a few minutes. On the way back, she slumped against the wall, wondering how two people could go over practically her entire personality in the span of a minute.

The second day folllowing was sunny and Vapor Squadron flew another. The ISAF member-state of Delarus had fallen, but three quarters of their military hardware had been stored in the country's main port, and this mission was to destroy it before the Erusians could use it.. Vapor Squadron arrived back at Los Canas in the late morning. The pilots all got out of their planes, jovial about being able to stem their string of military losses, all except Izzy; she staggered out of her Typhoon's cockpit and stumbled through their quarters' lobby and into what was once a public restroom. She splashed water on to her face, trying vainly to wash the morning's events from her mind. As napalm was dropped over the docks, Izzy swore she could see people there, tiny black flailing blobs. She didn't know if they were soldiers or dockworkers, but if anyone was there, they were certainly immolated, burned away into the sky like so many people on that summer day. Of course, she could be mistaken. They could have been anything, a hallucination. Everyone said she was crazy, right? So they weren't real, they weren't real!

Izzy kept splashing water on her face until Lindsay came in. Everyone thought of her as a nice if slow-witted girl, and a mediocre fighter pilot. She flew an under-maintained SU-27 Flanker for air superiority missions, on the condition that her plane was even in working order that day. Despite the influx of personnel, aircraft parts were still scarce, despite the new aircraft factory outside of St. Ark.

"Um… is there something wrong?" Lindsay asked.

"No, everything's fine," Izzy lied, "I just feel gross after the mission."

"Go take a shower then," Lindsay replied cheerfully, and sauntered out. Before she closed the door, she said, "It was something on your mission, wasn't it?"

Izzy had no reply; she just stared at Lindsay, and the two exchanged a look of mutual understanding.

Meanwhile, Duncan was sprawled on a particularly ugly 80's vintage brown vinyl sofa in the hotel lobby, describing the day's sortie to other pilots.

"So, there's this one dock, and it has a lot of cranes. So Noah drops this great shot and all of it just comes tumbling down on these tanks and these two gunboats. It was awesome, just like in the movies! And we came just in the nick of time; I totally saw Erusian scouts already checking out all of the stuff piled on those docks. I guess that's what Izzy's all melodramatic about. She's earned the Honorary Osean award with her talk on how it was awful we had to kill people as she handles a killing machine!"

"Don't you think you're stereotyping Oseans?" Mary asked, walking up to the group. She served as secondary flight lead, and had long since transferred to the Officers' Quarters. "Also, how do you know they were Erusian scouts?"

"Because they were prowling around all that military hardware. What else could they have been?" Duncan answered casually.

"That's what we thought at Hoffnung," Mary said softly as she walked away.

Noah was using the base computer to search for information on the squadron who engaged them at Stonehenge. When the base finally got civilian Interet access, he was able to use Data Owl to look up the squadron of Flankers. After two hours, he found who he was looking for in an old Erusian news article from last year; the ISAF government hadn't caught on to blocking specific sites, just the whole Internet.

They were the Aquila Squadron, better known as Yellow Squadron, based out of some air base near Goldberg, Erusea. Now, they were deployed to San Salvacion, and they weren't what Noah expected at all. He had expected five stern, most likely older, bald men who thought war was glorious. Instead, they were a squadron with rotating members around one pilot, known only as Yellow Thirteen. He was blond, and well spoken according to the interview at the bottom. His only constant wingman was a dark haired woman, Yellow Four. Their names had been withheld for privacy, leaving Noah intrigued to who they really were.

"Whatcha doing Noah?" Geoff asked as he entered the room.

"Nothing," Noah said as he tried to close the window. Geoff saw the window and moved the mouse away from the "x" button.

"Hey, is that the squadron we engaged over Stonehenge?" he asked,

"Yup," Noah replied.

"They use Su-37's? Nice!"

"Remember Geoff, they tried to kill us in them," Noah replied dryly.

"They're still cool," Geoff insisted, leaving the conversation at that.

The rest of the year got even worse as more scorched earth retreat missions were carried out. While not officially stated, ISAF forces were rapidly retreating eastward. All resistance in San Salvacion, Amber and Ugellas had been crushed, giving Erusea full control of Western Usea.

The refugee problem had gotten even worse. Thousands of tents had gone up at the capitol and in the parks and even on the streets, simply asking photojournalists to investigate their residents' plight and send photos to _The Color of the World _magazine. The situation had gotten so bad that ISAF had run out of tents, leaving thousands living out of their cars on the jammed freeways. People were stockpiling food, and many simply bought plane tickets and left via Los Canas' other airport.

Parts had gotten even harder to obtain: only half of Vapor Squadron would go on a sortie, with the rest were grounded. All the while, the Erusian army slowly advanced towards the old FCU. In response, ISAF, still disorganized, did little besides send what units they could east to St. Ark. This in turn, led more and more to want Erusea to come, to take over and replace the inept ISAF civilian branch.

Los Canas had been tossed into the fire, and the burning was about to start.

**Thanks for reading and please review or tell me any inaccuracies, I'd love to hear your opinion.**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Teletoon and Bandai Namco own everything.**_

"_The mood is tense here in Los Canas as Ulysses approaches. As some hope for an end to the madness that has pervaded our country, others are hiding in fear. Tonight at approximately 8:30, we will see if Usea will make it to the third millennium."_

_-Reporter Cheryl Santos, WKRL News- July 3__rd__, 1999_

"_Fallback Official; ISAF Troops Abandoning Central Usea."_

_-Headline for _Usea Today_, June 30__th__, 2004._

_7/3/99_

_Courtney found herself standing in the middle of the street. Newfield Island had fallen into lawlessness for just one more day; she had seen a man dash past carrying a television that definitely wasn't his, nothing out of the ordinary. She had run off from her parents, and had found herself in a half-built subdivision near the tops of the mountains running down the middle of the island, waiting…_

_The first oppressive waves of summer heat had flowed into Comberth Harbor, and they lay like a blanket in the evening over derelict ships, burned out cars, and a certain building between the old and new downtowns. It wasn't anything terribly unusual for the city, twenty stories and about thirty years old. On this evening, however, the rooftop was full of people, including a red-haired girl, waiting…_

_Big Comona had settled into a somber calm; people had simply prepared a late dinner, flipped through what little television programming had survived over the past three years, or went to bed. Geoff was among the last group, lying in his bed, with his mom and dad on the couch downstairs. As the first stars came out, he looked up out his window, and began waiting…_

_Duncan sat on his roof with a disinterested look on his face. He wasn't waiting; the citizens of Los Canas had always understood they had nothing to fear. He just wanted to get out, that was all. But still, he couldn't help but look up every now and then…_

_Noah was on his porch, looking through the open back door at the blaring living room television. There was no more waiting, Ulysses1994XF04 had officially entered the atmosphere and broken into pieces. The news outlets were already panicking; apparently they had lost contact with their Farbanti affiliates. The night sky rippled with a massive roar, causing dogs to bark and lights to come on. Stonehenge was working. _

12/31/03

The New Year had brought a respite from the losing war. The Erusian advance had stalled for the time being, just past the old FCU border. The negative news reports died down, and many believed they could now turn the tide of the war. But on this clear, brisk New Year's Eve, five pilots didn't care. The ground troops had moved out of the airport into temporary garrisons, and reinforcements had finally come from the west. But this evening there were only copious amounts of celebratory champagne and wonderfully meaningless conversation after months of seriousness and worry.

"So, think the war will end this year?" Trent asked.

Courtney couldn't focus on the question, instead she wanted to laugh at the plastic 2004 glasses he was wearing. She finally managed to say that she doubted it.

"Really? Erusea doesn't have all that many troops. They can't occupy the entire continent," Trent stated.

"Yeah, but who says we'll even oppose them? At least North Point will be well guarded," Courtney replied, glancing over her shoulder towards the city.

"Yeah, things aren't going so great back home either," Trent said

"Uh, pardon? Last time I checked, Emmeria was the Garden of Eden."

"It isn't Emmeria. The news says that Estovakia's government's about to collapse. I'm from Mante, and it's practically on the border. That means that what happens in Estovakia's going to flow over to my town."

"Yikes, but it can't be that bad. It _is_ cable news, you know," Courtney replied

Izzy and Geoff were downing drinks at a makeshift bar, and holding them in… relatively well.

"So then he's like 'Do you really think you can take me on?' and I'm all, 'Heck yeah!' and we took out katanas and battled. It was a long, fierce, and melodramatic affair with us calling out our attacks, but ultimately, I bested him. And that is how I got elected to the Parliament of Ustio," Izzy explained.

"No way," Ezekiel, their companion slurred, "They don't have katanas in Ustio."

"They do too," Izzy replied.

"But it doesn't matter, because you're just telling a drunken story," Noah deadpanned.

"You're no fun," Izzy said.

"Are you _sure _you aren't confusing me with Courtney?" Noah questioned.

"Oh wait, I think I am," Izzy agreed.

The three shared a laugh, while Courtney glowered at them. She turned back to Trent.

"They all say I'm so uptight," she said while sipping a soda. "I mean, I want a model squadron, and everybody just wants Izzy to get up on stage and sing karaoke of some one-hit wonder from ten years ago!"

"Well, Izzy is hilariously bad at karaoke…"

"Trent!"

"Okay, I get it, beside the point."

Courtney stormed off in a huff, and joined Duncan, who was staring at the falling snow.

"So, almighty Squadron Leader, what brings you over here?" Duncan asked.

"Um… uhh."

"Trent didn't say what you wanted him to?"

"No!" Courtney denied, "Or maybe… yes."

"Just take the pole out of your butt, and then come asking for advice, okay?" Duncan said.

Courtney fumed. Why couldn't she garner any respect from her squadron? She was their leader, and they had to look up to her, because she deserved it, and… no, she didn't deserve it, not really. She had no special training and had just been handed the title in a moment of desperation. Still, it didn't matter; the position was hers, and she was clinging to it. She walked away from Duncan, and joined Mary, Hatchet, and a few other squadron leaders she didn't know.

"So, you're saying that we can't use scorched-earth tactics or carpet-bombing at all?" One of the squadron leaders said to Mary. He was some guy from North Point, judging from his accent.

"Absolutely not. The Belkan War showed just how much discord that spreads. We'd level a city, and then when the Allies got to it, the locals were angry. They stopped food shipments, troop movements… it was a mess. Besides, if we ruin one of our own cities, how many people do you think will start to like Erusea better? Considering how many people already do, I wouldn't risk it."

"Well, yes, Captain," Hatchet replied, "But we've just left so much hardware for the taking. I heard there are at least two dozen tanks at Fort Gores they're leaving behind. Two dozen! If that's two dozen more tanks charging on Los Canas, then I say we get rid of them before they fall into Erusian hands."

"Well, even though half this base disagrees, the civilians are much more important than you think…"

Courtney drifted away from the conversation, wondering why she couldn't enjoy herself. She hadn't in such a long time, but it felt impossible. She walked out of the old hotel restaurant and up to her room; she'd change and get her physical training done early.

In contrast, Izzy and Geoff were much more jovial.

"Iz… it's getting close to midnight," he said, finishing off his last beer.

"What, you gonna kiss me or somethin'?" Izzy slurred.

"No, just happy for the New Year," Geoff replied.

"Maybe this year, something good'll happen," Noah said.

"You know what; I think it will, eh. Erusea can't keep going, why would they even invade in the first place? They'll get bogged down and we'll crush 'em!" Ezekiel added.

"Yeah, we will!" Izzy agreed, and help up her shot glass, "Here's to tanks in Farbanti by '05!"

Izzy, Geoff, Zeke, and Noah clinked glasses as the first fireworks around the city went off, starting 2004.

2/16/04

Duncan felt his stomach rise up to his throat as he yanked his yoke hard right, causing the missile to shoot off track off into the horizon as he circled back around towards the targets.

A massive dogfight had broken out north of Axel Bay, and the picturesque hills now made a good vantage point for watching a savage battle. ISAF transports had braved extremely low altitudes to try to move two infantry units east from the front lines, and had been intercepted by a squadron of Erusian F-15s. ISAF had sent fighters to defend the transports, and the Erusians countered by sending in more planes. Now, a twenty-plane dogfight was in full swing, even though the transports had long since left the airspace.

Noah grinned, an F-15 was almost within gun range, and this was going to get him his ace wings. Then, "Missile Alert" appeared on his HUD, so he climbed rapidly and flipped over. The missile was still following, so he kept jerking hard right and hard left, to no avail. Just when the missile was about to impact, he dived down again and saw the missile streak harmlessly past his plane. He checked his radar; the Erusians were getting the upper hand, only three other ISAF planes besides Vapor Squadron were still engaged with the fighters.

"Vapor 1, this is Vapor 5. We're getting picked off, any strategy here?"

"Um…uh," Courtney hesitated, she was unsure of what to do, "Just engage and destroy the enemy, Vapor 5"

Noah held back a caustic comment towards Courtney, she'd have gone insane. He found that one plane again, and fired. A contrast between the silvery winter landscape and a red-orange explosion appeared, and Noah grinned.

"Vapor 1, I'm just saying that I've got my ace wings today."

"That's nice Vapor 5. Go for a sixth would you?" Duncan snarled.

"Vapor 3, are you just jealous?" Izzy asked with mock innocence.

"All Vapor units cut the chatter. Angel and Duster are behaving better than you," Courtney said.

"Roger that, Vapor 1," Geoff said with a sigh. Now that Noah had hit ace status, it was all up to Izzy for the whole squadron to become aces. Maybe then Courtney would stop with the whole iron-fist commander thing. He aimed his last Sidewinder, got in range of one of the enemy planes, and fired.

The sortie had gone well; Vapor Squadron had bagged six planes in all, and bore little resemblance to that squadron over Stonehenge. Except for Izzy.

Ever since she had downed three C-17s at Stonehenge, she had downed no fighters or air targets. It was clear Izzy had pacifistic tendencies, to the point where even Mary was making unfavorable Osean comparisons. But for now, she was holding herself with relative silence and plenty of strength, so no one teased her directly. Izzy changed into her Air-Force T-shirt and sweatpants, and decided to take on her physical training for the day. She took off on a near sprint towards the terminal in the brisk February air, with no feelings of fatigue. She was circling the parking lot when she spotted Noah trying his hardest to keep up with her, but was left behind on the other side of the lot.

"Hey Noah, you really think you can keep up?" she yelled across the empty, cracked lot.

His reply was distant and soft, "No!"

Izzy chuckled to herself and let Noah catch up. He didn't have any good athletic clothes for the time of year, and was practically blue from the cold.

"So, what'cha doing?" she asked sweetly.

"Wanted to talk," he panted laconically, "Nice to run too."

"If this is about the whole 'not an ace' thing, forget about it. I… don't think I can.

Noah's heart rate had returned to something slow enough for normal conversation.

"Izzy, it would be a massive boon to the squadron. We'd get parts, new members, maybe even matching planes. All the other squadrons are better manned and better equipped, and they all have no qualms over what their job is. So what's up with you? You can do it, you have the best plane, the best weapons, but you just can't do anything," Noah explained.

"I mean, I understand where you're coming from," Izzy said, "but I honestly can't. I'm one of those extremely empathetic people, you see. I mean, it's why I have all those crazy stories about my family to tell you guys. And I know there are people in those planes. And they have lives and families and parents and dogs and cats and tigers and hopes and dreams. And I couldn't bear to take those away. Everybody just lost at least one of those back in the Nineties, Noah, and I'm not going to keep that up. I'm too… weak, and I shouldn't have signed up."

"Really, Izzy, and now you realize that," Noah said sarcastically, "But there's just a bit more suffering left, and everything's over. We just have to drive back the Erusians. They've lost their momentum, the Erusian people never wanted this, and at some point Headquarters will do something so stupid it works. And then comes 'happily ever after' for everyone," Noah finished.

"Yeah, 'happily ever after'," Izzy echoed, "You know, this helped a bit… I guess. I mean, come on, it isn't like I could quit or something."

"You have a point, but still, Izzy, you need to stop the Erusians, otherwise even more ISAF hopes and dreams and cats and the like will get trampled," Noah concluded. "There, have I appealed to your idealism?"

"Maybe," Izzy said. Before she could continue, Duncan came running up.

"Guys, Erusea just broke through the front lines. They're fifty miles closer to Los Canas!" Duncan shouted directly in their faces. He immediately ran back, leaving Noah and Izzy a bit more time for comments.

"I'll activate my killing machine, just for you," Izzy said, "You're a really nice guy Noah, you know that?"

Noah could do nothing but smile in return on the way back to Crew Quarters, despite the grim circumstances.

4/3/04

March hadn't been a good month for ISAF. More and more of Central Usea had fallen, and now Erusian forces rolled over the dunes of the Sandbury Desert. The Erusian advance had swept the unprepared south states without Istas Fortress at their disposal. They cut a swath of conquered land reaching to Scofield's Plateau, and were now preparing to take Comberth Harbor. Worse yet, their armies were getting dangerously close to Los Canas. To add to the woe, Erusea had taken the plant that made the ammunition for the Stonehenge guns in Scofield's Plateau, and now fired them indiscriminately.

No one was sure of the total losses the Air Force had suffered, but it was known that over a dozen civilian planes had been shot down due by the gargantuan guns. Mary had hoped that Osea losing two planes and four hundred people would rile it into helping against Erusea. The Osean government gave what amounted to a stern lecture, and forgot all about it. Without the hope of Osean aid, ISAF was still alone in a losing fight. So for now, there was nothing but losing sorties against waves and waves of tanks, with no end in sight.

Far away from the old airport, Beth sighed. She sat on the step to one of a few coveted emergency trailers given to refugees before turning to tents, then finally telling the remaining refugees to live in their cars. Beth had no idea of what to do; there wasn't a single job to be found in the city, and school was out on this uncharacteristically hot Sunday. Her mom was unloading a few bags of groceries; she'd been able to continue her old job as a nurse at an urgent care clinic out in the suburbs. She dealt with a two hour commute from this park in the city center, when it should have taken forty-five minutes; the highways and avenues were jammed with car people.

Rumors were flying around that ISAF was going to give the city up in exchange for letting all military personnel out, which had mixed reactions from the people of Los Canas. Some people were already stockpiling ammo and organizing militias to support ISAF. Some people, however, even the refugees fleeing Erusea's might, eagerly awaited their offensive to take the city. The second group included the Taggarts, who lived across the makeshift road, and hung the Creamsicle orange-and white Erusian flag over their trailer door. And today… they were being even more blatant about their loyalty.

"The Erusians'll put in honest-to-God houses!" Mr. Taggart yelled, "They'll get us out these damn trailers and back to our old homes! What does ISAF do for us? Leave us, that's what!" he continued to rant.

Reactions were negative; and soon, a cacophony of Mr. Taggart's shouts, "Shut up"s, complaining, and opposing arguments swept over the refugee camp. Beth found herself in the middle of this ugly, angry scene. In response, she got up and withdrew into her trailer. The groceries had been put away and now Beth's parents were observing the spectacle outside.

"It's a shame how that fool can run around screaming at the top of his lungs declaring how awful ISAF is. He'd better be careful with his mouth; governments do whatever they see fit in times like these," Beth's dad said.

Beth nodded in agreement; she was paying more attention to the fistfight between Taggart's son and that cute guy Brady who lived right on the pond.

"Beth. _Beth,"_ her mother called, drawing out her name the second time, "Now that we're all home, how about a board game?" she asked.

Beth agreed, and went to the station wagon out back to get the checkerboard. While she was rummaging through the backseat looking for it, the sound of many footsteps filled the air, as well as a faint whistle. She ignored it; it was probably a bunch of kids playing soccer or something. She finally found the checkerboard and Lord Fuffles, who had been skulking around the row of trailers for the past couple of days. Beth was alarmed by his new outdoor tendencies, and picked the cat up and the checkerboard. She walked around to her front door, and gasped at the sight. Taggart's trailer had been storm. The door was broken down and the Erusian flag was ripped down. Brady stood by, nervously talking to a soldier in full combat uniform. Most importantly, the trailer was deserted, and stood eerily calm despite the hustle and bustle of the camp. Beth decided not to stick around, and slipped back inside her trailer unnoticed.

6/30/04

What later became known as "Retreat Day" began like any other day off: Duncan hung around the lobby; Izzy ran around mumbling about something or other; Noah read; Geoff listened to Courtney's borrowed CD player; and Courtney pored over tactical maps with Mary, Hatchet, and the other squadron leaders. Suddenly, Zeke and Lindsay burst into the barracks. They had overheard rumors of an official fallback from a ground unit that had just arrived from the Altoora Desert, and that an official statement was imminent. Nobody was shocked at this news, but they still listened attentively. Then, an important-looking officer strode briskly into the lobby. He had Major insignias and carried a blue envelope, a sign of an urgent missive. He handed it to Hatchet silently, and left.

Hatchet opened the envelope and began to read aloud.

"Attention all ISAF military units: The war so far has been a bitter setback for the Independent States Allied Forces. This is due to severe disorganization in our military hierarchy. Never before has such a massive integration of disparate military units and commands been attempted, especially on such short notice. In order to gain a tactical footing, we need more time to do so in order more effectively combat the Erusians. Therefore, we've…" Hatchet paused. 

"It's official," he said solemnly, "All ISAF forces are being sent to makeshift bases in North Point and Saint Ark."

"And what about our territory?" Geoff asked.

"We're giving it all up," Hatchet said, "For damned reorganization!"

While Hatchet seethed, everyone else stood there, wishing they didn't have to give up… pretty much everywhere.

7/16/04

As the days of summer were in full swing, Los Canas found itself surrounded. The garrisons housing the city's Army units had been destroyed by Erusian airstrikes, as the Erusian Army took the Tyler and Scali Islands to the south and streamed through entire ISAF states unopposed, now that the fallback was official. The stream of retreating troops created an area under ISAF control known as the Fallback Strip, a long, narrow area of land snaking through the Waiapolo Mountains to St. Ark, surrounded by Erusian forces almost all the way.

The citizens rioted over their lack of security, and nothing was done about it. Los Canas, a city that had somehow managed to survive the 90's unscathed, was now getting a taste of the panics of the rest of Usea had endured.

The beginning of fall was a busy time. Vapor, with its record as an ace squadron, now that Izzy had gotten over her moral issues, did a lot of escort work for transports and bombers headed eastward.

Noah was in the gym, in the middle of his physical training, when the news of a new emergency sortie came from an anxious Izzy. They ran down the hall, with Izzy leading the way.

"So what's going on?" Noah asked, as they went through what was once Security.

"I don't know, they wouldn't tell me!" Izzy exclaimed, as the first gates started passing by.

"That's not good!"

The two hurried down the last gate to the hangar, changed into their flight suits, and sat at the front. Hatchet was already waiting for them, as were Courtney, Geoff, and Duncan.

"Okay Vapor Squadron," he started, pointing to an area of Chopinburg Forest with a laser pointer, "A massive force of Erusian tanks and infantry are heading towards Los Canas on Route 506. If left alone, they will directly threaten Los Canas in under three hours. Your mission is to provide air support for the 201st Battalion as they repel the advance. Our hold on central Usea and our headquarters depend on this mission. It _wouldn't_ if top brass decided to stop screaming like little girls in their offices and maybe stop the fallback, but no, we have to… dismissed," he abruptly finished, and left grumbling.

Dread filled the pilots of Vapor Squadron; Los Canas had served as a home for so long, the thought of losing it suggested vagrancy and incompetence.

As they left the briefing, their planes had already been brought out by the ground crews, except for Courtney's and Noah's.

"What's going on? Don't tell me my plane is out of commission." Courtney asked.

"No, they aren't," the crew chief said, "Your airbrake isn't deploying. It's a miracle it did on that last landing of yours," he said, gesturing towards Courtney. He then turned to Noah, "Your radar is still out of commission. Sorry."

"If this keeps up, I might just defect," Noah muttered, leaving Courtney to cock an eyebrow at him and seethe over her plane and her loss of control over the squadron.

"Geoff, you're flight lead today. Don't screw this up," Courtney said authoritatively.

"Chill, Court-"

"No chilling, just tank destroying," Courtney interrupted. She spun around and stormed towards the crew quarters angrily, while fearing the worst deep down. Noah did the same, albeit with less passion.

Geoff put his helmet on and climbed into the cockpit, testing out all the systems. Radar was good, engines sounded good, he had a full load of fuel plus external tanks…and he was leading. The thought was alien; he had always been that guy in the back who liked to party, not the class president. That meant there was only one option: absolute failure. Duncan was more confident. He honestly didn't care if they won or lost (hey, he had always hated this town) or the purpose of the sortie. He just wanted to fight.

Izzy was dreading the mission. She knew that made her seem wimpy and pacifistic (which really wasn't good for any enlisted personnel regardless of role) but she honestly didn't want to kill anyone despite her promise to Noah, which meant that she probably should rethink her career.

The three pilots began taxiing towards the runway, and soon left for the sky. Their new AWACS was call-signed Stagecoach, an older man.

Corporal Eva Lodz was very annoyed. Just as women were allowed in combat, they had to send her off on a near suicide mission. There was no way her whole squad could survive the oncoming Erusian force unscathed. Then, as soon as someone from her squad suffered a casualty, they'd demerit her entire platoon and send her off to a cubicle somewhere in Los Canas. This was tough enough a job without a war.

The 201st Infantry Battalion was currently entrenched in a town called Grande Montana sandwiched between the mountains and a thick forest, which at least would be something of a bottleneck. They'd already dynamited a bridge ten miles west of here, but no one knew if that would stall the Erusian advance at all. Air support had been called in, but hey, what could_ they_ do?

"Okay, according to the troops, the tanks are clustered at a broken bridge to the west of the combat zone, while the infantry vehicles are headed in from the south. You're free to engage," Stagecoach said.

The planes separated. The understaffed Vapor Squadron had been reinforced by Duster, Angel, and Trent and DJ for this mission. Izzy and Angel would provide cover for the attacking planes, Duster and Trent would attack the infantry, and Geoff and Duncan would destroy the tanks. A town loomed ahead of them, and blue dots on their radar right beneath them represented the various units entrenched in and near the town. The first blips representing enemy targets appeared on the enemy screen.

Geoff's plane screamed down towards the tanks, aimed the bombs he was carrying, and dropped one. The black speck hurtled through the air and a tank was caught in a massive fireball. Three more took direct hits from Duncan's bombing. Trent and Zeke were mowing through Erusian jeeps, and the skies were clear. It was an easy, easy mission.

Too easy.

"This is Angel to Vapor Two. Um… why aren't there any planes anywhere? There really should be planes to protect these tanks… or at least I think so," Lindsay said uncertainly.

It dawned on Geoff, having destroyed one more tank with his last bomb, that there should have been some sort of protection from aircraft.

Corporal Lodz held a similar opinion. Something was up. The troops seen through her binoculars were behaving very suspicious, not changing any of their tactics despite getting slaughtered by air support. They were advancing directly towards the town, but now that the artillery entrenched near town hall could fire on the troops, any hope of the Erusians advancing farther was unlikely.

Her radio crackled, and new orders came out from Central Command. As soon as they finished, she knew that she and her squad were in deep trouble.

"Something's up," Stagecoach said, "We have larger tank forces moving in from the north… and the west. This might have been-"

Stagecoach was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice,

"This is ISAF Headquarters, to all units. Proceed to Los Canas immediately! Erusian forces now directly threaten defense points in and around the city. I repeat, Erusian forces now directly threatens Los Canas. All units will receive further instructions from…"

Mary's voice interrupted the bulletin.

"Vapor and Omega Squadrons, RTB immediately and prepare for defending Los Canas. Further instructions will be given upon landing."

"Oh God, it can't be!" Izzy exclaimed, "There's no way they can be that close!" She knew that, yes, it was only a matter of time until the city fell. The problem was the fall itself…

_**San Salvacion, San Salvacion**_

_**The Same Day**_

The nation of San Salvacion had the unfortunate distinction of holding Stonehenge in the deserts to the south, and so Erusea had invaded the mostly unarmed country. The citizens were glum over the matter, but those feelings didn't extend to the Sky Kid Bar. Located on the north side of Old Towne, it was now a hangout for Erusian pilots. They were a boisterous group, and they fit in naturally in the dm bar.

Despite the liberal consumption of beer and other spirits, one pilot stuck to a cup of coffee. She sat at a table and watched her flight lead through one of her dark tresses. He was seated at the corner playing his guitar over the din of the raucous pilots, with his head facing down at the strings, showing the world only messy blond hair. He was finishing an old folk tune from the Lambert Mountains, and everyone clapped for him as he finished.

The squadron adjutant, a bald, overweight, man, entered the dimly lit room and prepared to address the pilots over the day's sortie, a successful bomber interception over Hattie's Ravine. The raven-haired already knew most of the details, so she didn't listen as she finished her lukewarm coffee. As she downed the last, the adjutant tallied up everyone's kills for her squadron.

"…Lieutenant Rasmussen brought up his total kills to twelve, great job for a new guy. Yellow 4," he said, pointing to the pilot, "You're up to thirty-two kills. And now for our leader's results: Our Yellow 13 bagged three more today, bringing his total up to sixty-four kills."

Everyone cheered for 13, but he brushed off the compliments and returned to playing his guitar.

"Hey, do you want to play with me?" he asked to someone off to the side. The recipient of his question was a little brown haired boy, who Yellow Four guessed to be about seven. He had continued to hang around the bar when the pilots commandeered it, but no one knew exactly what he did. He held a harmonica in his hand, and tried to shy away from the attention, but Yellow 4 smiled at him and motioned for the boy to join 13. Nervously, the boy stood beside 13, and 13 began to strum the first few chords of an old lullaby. The boy calmed somewhat, and began to play his harmonica, spreading a somber melody throughout the bar and into the street. Yellow 4 smiled. Surrounded by her friends listening to the lullaby, this foreign land felt more like home.

**This chapter was supposed to be an interlude between Stonehenge and the upcoming Fall of Los Canas, so yes, there's a bit less action in it. However, Chapter Four's going to be good, and I'll try to get it done as soon as possible. Please review.**


	4. Chapter 4

I own nothing.

_Mercy? Don't fool yourself. In war, we're useless and expendable to them- which is why we need to leave. Those that believe in mercy right now, learn the hard way._

_Quote from classic Osean war movie "Quiet Behind the Lines."_

7/18/04

The panics of a few days ago had settled. The reality that tanks and troops and planes were going to pour into the city had been realized by the remaining denizens of Los Canas, and they now resigned themselves to their fate.

Vapor Squadron found themselves in the middle of a whirlwind at base. Surviving units had poured in, preparing for a last stand with the Erusians, and no new equipment or parts came in. Food was running out, and everyone thought the battle had already been lost.

Geoff sat in the lobby of the quarters, trying his hardest not to get sucked into the pessimism surrounding him. Like a young boy with houseguests, he, Noah, and Duncan were told to give their room to an AC-130 crew falling back from their base in the Altoora Desert. In the lobby, Courtney was brooding, Duncan was scowling, and Noah was with the repair crew who finally managed to find enough time to install his new airbrake, a task delayed for weeks. Zeke, Trent, and DJ hung around the reception desk looking dazed, and most of the other the other officers and enlisted pilots scurried about looking for something to do.

Lindsay proved to be the sole exception. She sobbed into her hands, shrieking that she didn't want to die at the top of her lungs.

"Look Lindsay, it's okay," Mary consoled, "It isn't like the entire Erusian Air Force is like Yellow Squadron. Even then, just stick with Chef and me during the battle. You'll live, and even get a few kills. I promise."

"Really," Lindsay said, her voice rising youthfully. _Damn,_ Mary thought, _she's just so childish it hurts._

"Yup, really."

"That's great! They won't see what's coming when they'll see all three of us!" Lindsay replied, but it looked like she was trying to convince herself.

Geoff had walked over to the former reception desk, and was talking in hushed tones to Trent, DJ, and Zeke.

"I'm just really nervous about when Erusea attacks LC, eh. I don't want to be caught on the ground if they bomb the airport," Zeke said.

"So, I heard they'll send in Yellow Squadron to help take the city," Trent said, "How good are they?"

"They're _good_," Geoff replied, "If they're anywhere nearby, you better get out of there. It's a miracle our entire squadron survived over Stonehenge."

"Well then, that's encouraging," DJ sighed, "I just want my mama…"

"Seriously?" Zeke asked.

"What? Don't you love your mama?"

"I'm from St. Ark, eh. That's all I'll say."

Geoff winced, while Trent and DJ stared at Zeke, confused.

"Really? I went to St. Ark on vacation back in '92, and it was really nice."

"Well, considering where ISAF's sending all their troops, you'll see soon. Very, very soon," Zeke said.

Meanwhile, in San Salvacion, the late morning sun shone brightly upon a highway north of Old Towne. Yellow 4 gave 13 a wan smile, as the two helped the three new members perform preflight ckecks.

"I think ISAF will give everything they've got,"4 said nervously, "You really think they'll just let Los Canas go?"

"No, but we'll do what we're told and succeed," 13 replied.

"Yeah, for the Motherland!" 4 said with mock enthusiasm.

The quote quieted 13, and Yellow Squadron spent the remaining pre-flight checks in awkward silence.

In Merona, Katie found herself in the middle of a slow day… again. While food hadn't been rationed (yet, she thought,) gasoline was. So instead of vacationers coming in droves, only new conscripts to the Erusian army gave Merona any note while headed to the new training center hastily assembled north of town.

Since cadets in boot camp weren't known for having time and money to burn, Art's Café had sat nearly vacant ever since the war began. Considering all the stories Art Harris had told her before the Army "needed him," his café had never been full since Ulysses. So here she was, doing barely anything except take her wages from the cash register every week. She had resigned herself to listening to the radio station's new programming- a non-stop barrage of patriotic music when the bell at the counter rang.

Katie turned around to find Tyler, grinning at her.

"Still avoided the Army, huh?" Katie asked.

"Yup," he boasted, "So, has business gotten better?"

Katie scowled, "What do you think?"

Tyler hesitated before saying "No."

"And you're exactly right. Man, I'd close up this place if I had any other way of getting a job around here."

"You could enlist. Maybe they might have a cook position open or something?"

Katie's face took on a look of mock anger, "And you expect to me to cook for like, a thousand people?"

"Katie, your job _is_ cooking for people."

"Well… fine Tyler! I'll only enlist when you do, how about that?"

"Sounds okay to me."

Then, light from a pair of headlights poured into the tiny restaurant. Four figures got out of a battered sedan and entered the café.

"Hey, is this place still open for the night? We're starving," a jolly man who seemed to be the leader of the group said.

Katie couldn't contain her bewilderment, and asked, "Are you an angel?"

The man laughed, "Maybe."

It was nearly midnight when the last of the preflight checks were completed. Yellow Squadron was ready to go. The rest of the air squadrons were already ready for takeoff from various bases in occupied territory, and the ground units surrounding the city had been supplied and were ready to go. With all luck, by this time of night tomorrow, Los Canas would belong to Erusea.

Yellow 13 led the procession of planes out of the tunnel they used as an airbase. He ran a final check of his systems, breathed in to see if his oxygen mask was working, and barreled down the runway. He took off into the night, with San Salvacion a glowing gold behind him. Yellow Four and the rest of the squadron soon followed, and the five planes banked and turned towards Los Canas.

_So, I heard they're sending in food shipments from Emmeria today," Bridgette said. She looked just as tired as everyone else did on this stupid island, but tried to keep a positive outlook._

"_So? We're still fed, thank God," Courtney replied._

"_Yeah, but I think they have a few steaks. Steaks, Courtney, steaks! And cereal… all the sugary kinds, and lots of them… and we'll be able to get some!"_

_Courtney pondered over the idea of going with Bridgette down to the port for some food, "That… actually sounds really good, just like the old days."_

"_Yeah, just like the old days," Bridgette agreed._

_The two girls got up off of Courtney's floor, and left the house. Courtney's parents didn't notice, they were too far gone to care. They walked down the deserted streets, joined by a few other people desperate for a nice ribeye or a box of their favorite Choco-Rings._

"_Bridgette," Courtney said, noticing the growing crowd of people, "I know a shortcut we could take."_

"_Great," Bridgette said, "Let's go."_

_Courtney took Bridgette's hand and led her down an alley. The docks and a ship were in sight, then…_

"COURTNEY!" Izzy shouted, startling Courtney out of her dream, "The Erusians are coming! We gotta get into our flight suits, NOW!"

Courtney, dazed by her abrupt entry back into reality, shook her head for a minute, then joined Izzy in tense silence down to the lobby, where Hatchet was giving an emergency briefing.

"Approximately fifteen minutes ago, our intelligence operatives in San Salvacion reported that various Erusian aircraft left the city and are en route to attack and control Los Canas. Your job is take out the infantry and artillery surrounding the city to at least buy us enough time to get the generals and the Government out of the city. We have no idea when the Erusian Air Force will arrive, but it's going to be soon. Good luck to you all, and protect our city!"

The pilots rushed out to the plane hangar. The crew chiefs were already outfitting their planes with air-to-ground missiles and bombs as they entered the two makeshift locker rooms in the corner. Courtney yanked her flight suit on, zipped it up and grabbed her helmet as she hurried out of the hangar towards her plane.

The crews had just finished loading weapons on Courtney's plane and were moving on to Noah's.

"Hey," Courtney shouted, "What did you load me with?"

"Sidewinders and unguided bombs!" one of the ground crew members shouted back.

She moved the ladder left near her plane and climbed into the open cockpit. Just as Courtney was about to close the canopy, the squadron leader from North Point ran by her plane yelling,

"All units need to takeoff immediately! Do not wait for your squadrons; engage the enemy as soon as possible!"

Courtney took a deep breath, and began to taxi.

Thirty minutes later, when Geoff got into the air, the scene was chaotic. The cloudy night sky glowed dim red from the fires burning around the outskirts of Los Canas. The air was choked with airliners taking a few more refugees from the city's other airport, taking advantage of the lack of Erusian planes.

However, things weren't so good on the ground. All of the outer suburbs had fallen, and more and more tanks amassed at the frontlines. However, the Erusians were kept at bay outside of Highway 640, which served as a beltway. Geoff had used LAGM air-to-ground missiles to take out three tanks, and was now headed back to base to rearm. He had just deployed his landing gear when the missile alert alarm flooded his HUD. Geoff turned his F-16 hard right and came face to face with an entire squadron of Erusian air-superiority fighters.

Meanwhile, over the city center, Mary, Hatchet, and Lindsay provided top cover for the other ISAF planes. A few transports were already fleeing the airspace, but the three fighter pilots stayed behind, knowing that Erusian air support was imminent.

"So… what happens if we lose?" Lindsay asked over the radio.

"We get captured, or we refuel and head for North Point," Hatchet replied bluntly.

"And the people?" Lindsay asked again.

"Die. Or lose everything," Hatchet said again, with a disturbing lack of empathy.

Lindsay decided to stop asking, that had already happened a lot, so everyone down in Los Canas could handle it, right?

Then, her missile alert flashed red on her HUD, and she climbed to evade. The missile still came, and she dived and turned hard right. The missile shot off track, and Lindsay found herself surrounded by her five worst fears. Yellow Squadron.

Geoff decided to risk it. He engaged the afterburners to outrun the planes behind him. The runway lights still glowed bright amidst the last few streetlights still working in the surrounding suburbs. He began to slow down and prepare to land, but Geoff found that a missile was already headed towards him.

He sighed, and immediately began evasive maneuvers. The missile thankfully went off track, and Geoff somehow managed to land his plane. He taxied over towards the hangars and stopped.

The crew chief came running out, with a panicked expression on his face.

"They're letting go of the city entirely! There're too many tanks and they're saying that bombers are inbound!"

"What? So what happens to us?" Geoff asked nervously.

"They've got a couple of C-130's inbound to get us out of here, and the generals and the government are prepping to leave in helicopters downtown. You're guarding us, I guess."

"Okay, I'll need air to air missiles then. "

"Sure," the crew chief answered, "But after this, we're destroying all weapons here, so aim carefully."

"Will do," Geoff replied, "and good luck."

"Thanks, I'll need it," the crew chief said as he ran back to the hangar.

Geoff nervously scanned the skies as his plane idled on the tarmac. Missiles were streaking across the sky, hitting checkpoints and hastily-assembled defense points in the city proper. A few helicopters were taking off from where the Capitol Building should be. The President was finally jumping ship.

Eva felt a sense of dread as her Ch-47 helicopter took off, she was defenseless against any Erusian attack; be it from the ground or the air. Her squad had barely escaped from Grande Montana by the skin of their teeth, only to be assigned to guard fleeing government representatives. So here she was, stuck in a hovering tin can with all fifty members of the Senate panicking over the explosions off in the distance.

Twelve helicopters had taken off, and all were supposed to land at Fort Gillespie, the next major fortification on the Fallback Line, then take fixed wing aircraft to North Point. However, Eva doubted things could go this smoothly considering the state of the battle. ISAF forces were holed up in downtown, with the outer city having fallen. ISAF's air superiority was patchy, and some areas were vulnerable to Erusian assault while others weren't. Unless some miracle happened, there was no way all the choppers were getting anywhere without getting shot down.

Over downtown, Lindsay tried to keep her stomach down as she deftly maneuvered her plane over the skyscrapers below. She had all her ammo—she couldn't even get Yellow Squadron in her sights, let alone fire anything at them. Hatchet and Mary were in a similar bind, watching their world spin around them trying to fire at Erusea's best.

"Angel," Mary said over the radio, "I need you to fly off in one direction. You'll distract the Yellows, and I'll fire. Okay?"

Lindsay thought about this. Would they honestly fall for that? She decided that they would.

"This is Angel. Roger that."

Lindsay leveled out her plane and flew outwards towards the suburbs, and the Yellows immediately followed. Mary trailed behind one of the Yellows, and she smiled as her radar locked on to the target. Just as her target leveled out their wings, she fired.

Almost immediately, the Yellows broke, their Su-37s' thrust vectoring systems delivering them out of the missile's path and towards her plane. Before one Yellow plane turned however, the pilot fired one missile at Lindsay's Flanker. Mary immediately performed evasive maneuvers to get back behind the Yellow planes, but she couldn't help but glance at the tiny speck of the missile on radar headed towards Lindsay.

Lindsay performed a 180 degree turn back towards the unfolding dogfight, but it wasn't enough to shake off the missile. She banked left, then right, then dived, and climbed, but the missile stayed glued to her six and got closer and closer. She panicked, jerking her yoke whichever way her trembling hand would let her. It wasn't enough. The missile struck between her engines' exhausts, and a fireball enveloped the rear of her Flanker. Lindsay dived, her out-of-control plane hurtling down towards Los Canas. The hulk of the Flanker struck the glass façade of an office tower in the center of the city, creating an explosion that shattered the whole side of the glass building, immolating offices and sending bits of shattered glass and steel onto abandoned cars and hiding citizens.

The whole time, Lindsay had been screaming.

Mary was stunned. Lindsay didn't deserve to die, especially not like that. Her shock turned to rage, and she flew faster, trying to get a lock on the Yellows and shoot them down. Hatchet agreed, as his Typhoon followed Mary's. Together they were going to drive the Yellows back to Erusea.

Courtney had no idea what to do. A transmission had gone out that the airport had been destroyed. Aging Tu-95 bombers had snuck past ISAF fighters and hit the runway, rendering Courtney unable to refuel or rearm. She was down to her guns and a Sidewinder missile, and she was going to make the most of them.

The bombers had been shot down by a squadron from Fort Gillespie, so Courtney found herself in a lull in the fighting. She had managed to gather the rest of her squadron, and only Geoff was decently armed. Noah was completely out of ordinance, Izzy only had one Sidewinder left, and Duncan was reduced to his guns.

A voice crackled on the radio.

"This is the helicopter Greyhound One. We're getting intercepted by Erusian fighters and request air support. Hurry, we're carrying the President!"

"Vapor 5 to Vapor 1, requesting permission to engage," Noah asked.

"Permission granted," Courtney responded, "Let's all save the President," she exclaimed, the thoughts of awards and potentially fifteen minutes of fame swirling through her head.

In the convoy of helicopters, Eva panicked. They had no SAMs or AA guns below and with fighters closing in, there was little chance of getting out alive. Then, the pilot let out a cheer.

"What is it?" Eva asked.

"We have friendly planes inbound to our location. We have an escort!" the pilot replied.

The various politicians in back let out a cheer as well as a blue plane streaked by the helicopter.

"Greyhound One, this is Vapor One, we have sight of three hostiles," Courtney said, "We'll take care of them. All Vapor units, engage."

Duncan had already worked his way behind one of the fighters, identified as an F-16. Despite the Erusian pilots' attempts at evasive maneuvers, Duncan worked his way into gun range. He lifted the nose of his plane just a bit, aiming his guns. Finally, he fired. Bullets sliced through the Erusian plane, and the pilot was forced to eject.

"This is Vapor 3, splash one bandit," Duncan said with pride, "But I'm all out of ammo."

"Just keep them distracted," Courtney said, "We're almost out of the city."

The lights thinned out ahead, and the pilot of helicopter could help but grin; they were almost home free. Behind him, Izzy deftly maneuvered her Typhoon around and towards the planes. One of the two remaining F-16's were in her crosshairs. The pilot was distracted with speeding forward to shoot down the helicopters and flew in a straight line directly in Izzy's twelve o'clock. She engaged her afterburners and sped forward. Her last missile locked on, and with a gulp, she fired it. The pilot finally realized that someone was behind him, and began to turn right, but it was too late, and the missile hit. Fortunately, the pilot ejected, bringing a sigh of relief to Izzy's lips.

"Vapor 4, bandit down," Izzy said confidently, "Out of ammo as well."

A bright flash of red and black caught the squadron's eye.

"This is Vapor 2, bagged one," Geoff said.

"Kill confirmed. Great job Geoff," Courtney said. Blue arrows appeared on her radar; friendly aircraft.

"Um… what are those transports doing?" asked Noah.

"Maybe they're taking a few more people out of the city," Izzy guessed.

Then, the radios of all ISAF aircraft and personnel crackled to life.

"This is Claymore Flight; all ISAF personnel evacuate the city and fall back to Fort Gillespie. We're set up a flak barrier between downtown and the Erusian forces on the West Side. Repeat, all ISAF units fall back…"

"Wait a flak barrier!" Noah shouted his voice full of panic, "Dear God, my family lives on the West Side! They can't do that!"

Courtney planned a response, but decided to keep it in her throat, there was nothing she could say to make the inevitable carnage any better.

Beth found herself hiding under a steel table in her mom's urgent care clinic. Already the whole facility was packed with panicked citizens trying to avoid the battle outside. The bombers that hit the airport were nowhere to be seen, so she considered getting up and helping her mother with triage. She stopped assuming the fetal position, grabbed onto the table leg to help herself up, and just as she began to move, then came death from above.

"Wait a minute, those aren't transports!" Geoff exclaimed.

Instead, four AC-130 gunships opened fire on suburban Los Canas, creating a long, narrow path of devastation. Cars were shredded, tanks penetrated, troops out on the street killed almost instantly. It plowed through the acres of subdivisions, shattering glass windows and turning drywall and plywood into holed scraps of former structure. A few tanks were caught here, sneaking through winding streets and dying lawns, but mostly, all that were here were the newly dead and the moans of the newly dying.

Beth screamed as bullets hit the ground around the table. The table itself was dented, but it still kept the bullets out. Considering the screams from outside the room, Beth had a nagging suspicion that the others couldn't find as good hiding spots as her. Finally, after ten seconds of terror, the firing ceased. Beth got up. She opened the door, and entered hell.

She saw blood everywhere, coming from corpses with terrified eyes who didn't even have time to close them. She gingerly stepped towards the exit, trying not to cry or be sick. Finally, she got to the entrance, and she finally crumpled to her knees. Her mother lay there, deathly still. Beth immediately choked up and grabbed her hand, not caring of the bloodstains seeping into her jeans. Finally, she could choke out one word: why? It became a mantra, an expression of loss and anger and confusion. Her whole brain devoted itself to it, until a hand touched her shoulder. Beth turned around.

There stood an Erusian soldier.

"You have to go," he said, in a harsh accent.

Beth cowered away, and clambered across the room before finally getting up in an attempt to face him. The soldier stepped back and opened the door.

"Go home," he said, "There's been enough death."

Beth got up, and gingerly walked past him shivering out of fear.

"T-t-thanks," she stammered softly. The soldier replied with a smile.

The street was full of totaled cars, broken glass, and stray bricks and chunks of concrete. The sight, plus the soldier, was too much for Beth. She bolted, leaving Private Cody Anderson behind.

Katie brought another plate of food to the smiling man; he was an insatiable glutton. However, considering the number of customers lately, she needed this glutton… and his friends.

"So, I never got you name. You come in here a lot," Katie said.

"Owen," the man replied, and returned to his pancakes, wanting breakfast at night. Katie took a seat next to him.

"So…what brings you to Merona?" Katie asked, "Things have just been like, so slow lately because of the war."

"Oh… I'm a… uh…a… a salesman! I have some pretty nice vacuum cleaners if you're interested," Owen answered, his face turning red.

Katie raised an eyebrow, "So you and your friends are all vacuum salesmen, and you all sell vacuums together.

"Yup," Owen said, a little too eagerly.

Then, one of Owen's friends, a pudgy woman who introduced herself as LeShawna quickly interjected.

"Well, we sell more than that. We stick together 'cause these are pretty hard times, ain't that right girl?"

"I guess so," Katie said, "Do you have anywhere to stay? The last hotel closed down, no one's coming in from Farbanti or Goldberg so the manager got drafted."

"No, we don't," said Heather, another one of Owen's associates. She was pretty, with fair skin and long, straight, dark hair, "We basically just came to town hoping there was a place to stay… so yeah, we're out of luck."

"Is there anywhere to stay outside of town?" Owen's last fellow "salesmen" asked, a nebbish man named Harold asked.

"Well, there was Pilottown ten miles southwest…" Katie began, but her words tapered off. LeShawna let out an "Aww," and reached her hand up to Katie's cheek.

"Ulysses?" she asked.

"Yeah," Katie replied, "Now it's the world's largest tidal pool."

"Did… did you lose anyone," Owen inquired gently, his eyes ful of concern.

"My best friend. She lived there, and she planned to leave for Osea but her flight got cancelled so she hunkered down and…" Katie then realized at this moment that the first tears were welling in the corners of her eyes.

"It's okay, it's okay," LeShawna said consolingly, with waves of calm pouring from her mouth. She repeated it over and over until finally, Katie stopped quivering.

"Yeah, it's alright," Katie said, "You know, you guys can stay with me. I've got a spare bedroom and a couch. I hope at least one of you has like, a sleeping bag or air mattress or something."

"Thanks then," Heather said, finally looking up from twirling the ice around in her glass of water.

"You're welcome," Katie replied, "I'll let you guys finish up and pay, then I'll lead the way. My house is in walking distance and it's right on the beach…"

Katie walked over to the radio and turned it on, hoping to get some contraband stations from across the sea in Nordland. Instead, a newscaster's voice came through loud and clear.

"In breaking news tonight, it is confirmed that the Independent States Allied Forces have completely abandoned Los Canas and most of their fortifications on continental Usea, giving our proud nation the rightful justice we deserve against the restricting Useans…"

All five turned towards the radio, looks of concern etched deep into their faces. This war was going horribly right.


End file.
